


Conversations 1

by aussieokie



Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Comfort/Angst, F/M, Friendship, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 18:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 43,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4677377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aussieokie/pseuds/aussieokie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These are conversations (mainly) between Ressler and Keen, Just some random "one-shots/episode expansions" and scenes that 'should' have been there from their Season One cases together as trust and eventually friendship began to grow. (Originally written and posted during Season 1, I only just decided to put them up here too!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stakeout

_This was originally just a one-shot called Stakeout, where I first got the idea to go back to the beginning and chronicle Ressler and Keens journey together. So this isn't from an episode. It's just a situation I placed them in to 'force' them to confront each other! I do tend to stick with Ressler's POV because I just love being inside his head, hence you see his thoughts (in italics)! :-)_

* * *

Ressler changed position in his seat for the umpteenth time in the last hour. His back felt like it was going to break under the strain of sitting still for so long.  _Damn, I hate stakeouts._ He kept his eyes on the doorway of the nightclub further down the block, ever vigilant, even as his back muscles screamed for some relief. Not to mention his bladder.  _Knew I should have said no to that last cup of coffee._

They'd been sitting in the Suburban since 5:30pm and it was now almost 1:00am. He was hungry again, starting to feel tired and getting more pissed off by the minute the longer their quarry didn't show. He also knew this wasn't like him. He was normally much more in control than this. It had just been a long day, he rationalized.  _Sitting here with her for hours isn't helping._

Keen looked across at him again, starting to feel a little irritated at how restless he was. She was tired too, but he was like a caged animal and making her nervous. She'd felt awkward sitting in the car with him the first couple of hours. It was the longest they'd spent together with just the two of them since they'd started working together.

At the three hour mark she'd walked back to get them some sandwiches and coffee from a quick stop a block down the road. It wasn't that he'd 'ordered' her to do it. She'd left willingly just to get away from that steely gaze of his for a few minutes. They'd eaten in silence, each watching the door to the nightclub and both privately wishing their target would appear so this endless night would be over and they'd be free of each other.

Five hours into it he'd gone back to the quick stop to use their bathroom and get more coffee. He knew the coffee was likely a mistake but he was feeling frustrated, and torturing himself with a full bladder seemed almost preferable to having to talk to Keen.

"How many of these have you done?" she asked quietly.

"Too many," he said shortly, "He better show up soon, or I swear…" he didn't finish that thought.

She looked at him, seeing his jaw clench in the soft light from the nearby street light. He looked at his watch again, and if she saw him do that one more time she thought she'd strangle him. Time to get him distracted from his personal discomfort – for both their sakes.

"You'll what?" she coaxed.

He glanced at her quickly before returning his gaze to the door of the club. "I don't know. I'm just…" He dismissed it with a shake of his head, not really wanting to talk.  _I don't know you well enough for that, Keen._  She'd been on the task force for just over two weeks and he didn't know what to think of her. Reddington was his case and it had been whisked away from him and handed to a rookie – by the very man he'd been after for years.  _Yeah, you could say I'm pissed off at that._

She knew he didn't trust her and this was killing him having to spend this much time with her. And who could blame him. She had no clue what Red's interest in her was, so how could she possibly think Donald Ressler would understand either. But he didn't have to be such a jerk about it.

Someone needed to cut through this and she knew he'd never be the one to do it. Not in a million years would Agent Ressler confront this head on. So she decided on a different tactic and went straight for the throat.

"I'll finish that thought for you - you're just frustrated. You don't trust me. You don't understand why I'm on the Reddington case, when it was your case for years. You don't even want me on your task force."

"Now's not the time, Keen."

"You got anything better to talk about?"

"We need to concentrate on the task at hand," he replied, stubbornly looking toward the cluband refusing to look at her.  _Why do women always feel the need to over analyze everything?_  If he'd been here with another guy, they'd have been making small talk about football and beer – not to mention being able to pee in a cup when they needed to. That was impossible when on a stake out with a woman. He groaned inwardly as she continued.

"You're fully aware that I don't understand why he asked for me. Yet you still have this doubt and still think I may be a criminal counterpart of Reddingtons." She saw him scowl and grind his teeth together.

"I don't think you're in any position to know what I think."

She had reached the point where this needed to be out in the open and discussed now. They'd been dancing around this with each other, like two prized fighters in the ring. He'd say something and she'd react, usually disagreeing with him. She'd say something and he'd clench his teeth, frustrated at the situation he was in with having to wait for her to give information Reddington had supplied.

They circled each other all day, every day. Each painfully aware that they'd been thrown in the ring together by Reddington and they were stuck with this arrangement. Neither of them had ever openly argued with another work colleague like they did at times with each other. They seemed to bring out the worst in each other, a fact not missed by their co-workers who suddenly got very busy looking elsewhere when the Ressler and Keen Performance would get under way.

But all his posturing, hands on hips and frowning at almost everything she did was wearing thin and as she glanced at him gritting his teeth she was determined to get this out in the open. She kept her voice low, but to the point.

"Try this for size. You graduated top of your class at Quantico, spent two years in the field before going straight to Lead Agent on the Reddington case – a huge case – when you were just 30 years old. The poster boy FBI Agent, yet you deserved everything that came your way because, damn it, you worked hard to achieve it. You were – are – very good at what you do. So of course you should be the lead agent and liaison."

"So you read my file."

"Actually I've never read your file," she said truthfully. She just knew his type. She'd been around him long enough now. "But I'm guaranteeing there are other things not in your file. It doesn't mention the lonely existence you lead. Not letting anyone get too close. So the job is the only side of Donald Ressler that you let the public see. But there is so much more there behind those blue eyes of yours, but you choose not to let anyone in. Because if you let them in, then they might just see the real you – and they might not like what they find. And that's not something you're prepared to do, because it would only compromise your perfectly compartmentalized life."

She'd struck a nerve, and he whipped his head around. "Stop profiling me, Keen!"

She ignored him, because she was getting the reaction she'd aimed for and continued, "Your file also wouldn't mention your insecurity at failing to be the best. You hate that Reddington chose me, because you're afraid that might mean you failed and that can't happen in your world. You see me as a threat to everything you've built up. You see those walls coming down that you've spent years building and you don't like it. So it's easier to hold it against me and blame me for doing this to you. The truth is, it's being done to both of us."

He hissed through his teeth, but said nothing.  _Damn it, Keen, shut up._

She smiled faintly. She'd got him. "You don't trust profiling because it doesn't deal in tangible facts. To you it's just hearsay and wild guesses. Not your type of evidence."

"I've made no secret of that," he replied shortly.

"I'm right about you though." She glanced at him and knew by his brief dropping of his eyes that she'd nailed it. If she was honest with herself, she was actually rather fascinated by him. It took effort to hold himself in check like he did continually. That wasn't an easy way to live – and it intrigued her why he tried so hard to close himself off like that.

"Let's just keep our minds on the job here, alright?" he countered, trying to end this conversation and looking back at the nightclub. He didn't like this one bit. If he was honest, he didn't like her seeing right through him. He'd spent a very long time becoming who he was and he didn't need her complicating that.  _Apparently it's too late for that._

She was looking at him again and continued more gently this time. "Don't dismiss something just because you don't happen to understand it. I may not have your field experience. But the difference between you and I is that I have no problem saying I admire you for what you've done in your seven years. But don't dismiss what I may be capable of too. Give me a chance, and you'll see that there are other ways to be an FBI agent. We're not all endowed with a 'Boy Scout Hero Complex' to run in and save the day, getting blown up and bruised along the way."

She was referring to their first case where he'd literally run towards her on the bridge, shooting the Pavlovich brothers and saving her life. Of course, that was shortly followed by him getting blown off the bridge by the explosion and ending up in the river below. He was a Boy Scout all right - and a damn good one. She had noticed that he also had a knack for running straight into the thick of things, which usually resulted in him getting hurt. She'd have to keep an eye on this one. It struck her that although he may be an uncaring stuffed shirt who completely rubbed her the wrong way, she was already beginning to think of him as her partner.

He looked across at her now, taking his eyes off the nightclub for a moment. He had never liked it when people said one thing and meant another – which was rather ironic since he lived a lot of his own life that way. He could now see that Keen was a straight shooter and had got to the heart of what it was that bothered him about her. She had seen right through his façade.  _Not bad, Keen. I may have underestimated you._ A faint smile crept across his lips, before it became something more and actually reached his eyes.

She looked at him and met his gaze. "Well look at that. There may just be a nice guy in there after all." And she smiled with him, before returning to look at the nightclub. Perhaps she'd need to rethink this Donald Ressler guy. There was hope for him yet.

He returned his gaze to their target also, realizing that Elizabeth Keen was going to require a readjustment in his thinking. It didn't mean he wouldn't continue to track her every move. He'd set up flags in the system to alert him of anything suspicious she may do. But perhaps he could cut her some slack. She wasn't the one who asked for this, any more than he had. They were the same in that – thrust together by some sick plan conjured up by Raymond Reddington.  _We're the same in a lot of ways…_

Their thoughts echoed each other, each unaware that they were both thinking the same thing – that this was going to be an interesting partnership, for sure.


	2. Montreal

_This is taken from The Freelancer, right as Reddington leaves the table at the French Restaurant, while Ressler and two agents are watching them from a van around the corner. (And yes, I know the first part is word for word from the show! But hey, I'm new at this and I just love that scene and wanted to add more of their feelings into it.)_

* * *

Reddington looked over Liz's shoulder toward the waiter behind her, before looking over at the barman. Both had been watching him. Red knew the signs, having had Ressler tail him for years. He had cautioned Donald about clumsy agents in the bushes and yet here they were right under his nose. The FBI never ceased to amaze him with their blunt instrument approach to everything.

"Please excuse me for a moment," he politely told Liz, and left the table.

In the surveillance van across the street, Ressler was watching the monitors intently and saw instantly the moment Red made them.

"He's onto us!" He grabbed the two way radio, yelling into it, "All units move now!"

He threw the radio down and ran from the van, drawing his weapon as he sprinted toward the restaurant. The Canadian Police pulled up as he ran, sirens blaring and lights flashing, causing him to weave in between their vehicles. He was suddenly in familiar territory with Reddington, the hunter and the hunted, and he was determined not to lose him this time.

The fire alarm was blaring as he entered the restaurant.  _Damn it, Reddington!_  He knew full well he had set it off as a distraction and had to jostle his way through the crowd of guests. With the armed agents and police right behind him he barged past Keen, ignoring her, and headed to the kitchen to find the waiter Red had made contact with.

Keen shook her head in anger as she realized she'd been lied to. It was supposed to be just her and Reddington in Montreal, and yet from nowhere Ressler and a full SWAT team had charged into the restaurant in pursuit of Reddington. They had been under surveillance the entire time! She headed outside to clear her head, pacing angrily in the glare of the red and blue police lights.

Ressler appeared from the restaurant a few minutes later, barking orders to his fellow agents. His eyes fell on Keen and he glared at her before turning briskly away, heading back toward the surveillance van. Reddington had eluded him again and he was in no mood to deal with her.

She followed, trying to catch up to him. "What the hell was that? You sold him out!"

He shrugged her off, angrily walking in front of her. "You let him go!" he yelled back at her, wanting her to just get away from him.  _She shouldn't even be in the field!_

"I let him go? Who notified RCMP? You compromised an asset!" She defended herself, wanting him to stop walking away from her. His surveillance was the only reason Red took off! She could see the tension in his shoulders under his blue FBI jacket. He was livid and she was angry - just a typical day at the office for them, she realized.

He scowled at her incompetence, stopped and whirled around to her, so furious he could barely contain himself.

"He's number 4 on the Most Wanted list, Keen! What did you expect?!" He hissed at her through clenched teeth.

Leaning toward her to be heard above the sirens, he pointed right into her face. "Now he's gone – because of you!" He couldn't stand to look at her anymore and turned to the van, shaking his head. She stood there, feeling like she'd been hit in the stomach with his wrath.

He opened the door to the van roughly - and stopped dead.

"Hey there guys," said Red pleasantly. Keen looked into the van from behind Ressler, to see Reddington sitting calmly at the surveillance monitors.

"What the hell..." murmured Ressler under his breath, before he climbed into the truck, grabbed Red's suit jacket and shoved him against the wall.

"You planned this! You knew he would never show!" he hissed.

"Take a breath Agent Ressler. Do you think I'm going to fly all the way to Montreal for the cheese cart?" Red smirked at him, making Ressler feel like a fool. Though Donald hardly needed help from him in that department, he surmised smugly.

 _Damn it, Reddington._ Ressler let go of Red's jacket, scowling, and moved back a couple of steps to stand beside Keen but never taking his eyes off Red.

Reddington adjusted his jacket and tie as he addressed them calmly. "My contact was the first person I saw when I walked into the place. I told you he would help and he did."

Ressler glanced at Keen. "The coat check attendant," she told him softly, as Ressler bent down to replay the video and Keen sat down behind him.

Reddington watched the exchange between them. He had heard them angrily shouting at each other just a few moments ago, yet now they were on the same page.

Ressler replayed the video, frustrated at himself for missing that. He was listening as Red explained how he'd left payment in his hat in exchange for the picture of the Freelancer's next victim – Gloriana Campo, the human rights activist.

Keen was reading the newspaper clipping on Campo that Red had given her, when Ressler literally snatched it out of her hands. She looked at him in disbelief. The man's short fuse was maddening!

Red was rather enjoying watching Lizzie and Ressler bounce off each other. "Hey Donald, how about that cheese cart?" he smirked, bringing the disgusted scowl back to Ressler right on cue, as he shot a dark look at Reddington.

###

One hour later they'd left Montreal and were seated on Reddington's jet flying back to DC. Reddington and Keen were sitting across from each other, he drinking scotch while she quietly looked out the window. It was dark so that there was nothing to see outside but it gave her time to think. She knew Red wanted to talk but she was in no mood.

"Lizzie, if you don't mind me saying so, I believe you and Donald need to discuss this," he said, almost gently. She met his eyes and hesitated, before nodding. "Yes, it seems I'm always the designated peace maker."

"That's the spirit, Lizzie."

She got up and walked to where Ressler was sitting alone, looking at information on Gloriana Campo on his laptop. Well, his laptop was open, but he really wasn't concentrating on it. To say it had been a bad evening would be an understatement. Reddington had thrown him completely - again - but it was Keen who had infuriated him.

He ignored her when she sat down, suddenly engrossed in his computer screen. But that tactic wasn't going to work with her, as she pushed his laptop closed and stared at him.

"I was working on tha-" But she cut him off.

"We need to discuss what happened this evening. And don't give me that look." He had grit his teeth and looked away from her as soon as he'd known she wanted to discuss … _over analyze_... this.  _Women. I'll never understand them – especially this one._

He feigned interest. "Discuss away, Keen." He waved his hand toward her, effectively opening up the floor for discussion.

She didn't like his sarcasm, but at least he wasn't ignoring her now. "Why were you so angry at me this evening?" she asked.

"What, you mean letting the number 4 Most Wanted criminal escape wasn't enough reason?" he shot at her.

"He didn't escape."

"We didn't know that at the time, Keen," he said shortly.

She gave him an exasperated look. "You were angry at me because you were convinced Reddington and I were working together and had double crossed you. You were actually angrier at yourself for thinking you'd fallen for it. You doubted yourself. And in you, doubt and perceived failure manifests itself as anger. So you lashed out at me because Red wasn't there to feel the brunt of your anger."

He sighed, clenching his teeth.  _Stop profiling me, Keen._  He folded his arms as he looked at her in frustration, not saying anything. Of course she was right – his anger had been misplaced. But he had been right about her not having enough field experience for this. It could have turned out so much worse because of her lack of skills.

"You've been telling yourself Reddington was using the resources of the FBI to further his endeavors until he had enough intel, then he'd leave on his terms. So the second he got up from that table, that was all the proof you needed to tell yourself you were right. You were completely wrong though," she argued.

He shook his head at her. "You're naïve where he's concerned. We don't know what his agenda is and I have had every reason to mistrust him. And if you had been around longer than 3 weeks, you would know that too. A trained field agent would have known to keep up with him, Keen. You didn't even try to stop him!" he shot at her, raising his voice.

"Do you really think anyone can stop him once he decides to do something? That's what infuriates you about him. He STILL does his own thing, even though he's allied himself with us and is in our... 'custody'."

He scowled and looked away from her.  _She just doesn't get it._

"And I know I don't have experience in the field. The only way I'm going to get that is to BE in the field. We're in a very …unique… situation, with Reddington demanding I be his liaison. So yes, I will make mistakes."

He looked at her, surprised she had admitted that. She was right about that, of course.  _Apparently she profiles herself too._

"What do I have to do to convince you that I don't know Reddington? I never met him before that day he asked for me." She found herself almost pleading with him.

For the most part he really had started to believe that, but doubt had come flooding back when he'd thought they had double crossed him tonight.

"Do you believe me when I tell you that I am in the dark on what Red wants with me?" she repeated.

He looked her straight in the eyes, reading her. He hesitated a moment longer before coming to a decision.

"Yes, I believe you," he said, and saw the relief appear in her eyes.

The more time she spent with him, the more she understood Ressler. He wasn't that complicated, even though he might like to think he was. She admired the fact he could admit when he was wrong - even if it took a little prying out of him.

He wanted her to understand how working with Reddington instead of pursuing him was something he was having difficulty with. He continually took that frustration out on her when it was mainly directed at Reddington. But then he realized she already knew that. It was he who had been having a problem seeing it.  _Well, now who's profiling who?_

He broke the silence again, his voice much softer now. "This whole deal of working with Reddington hasn't been easy for me, Keen. The man just brings out the worst in me."

"I can see that," she said softly.

He looked away briefly before looking at her again, shaking his head as his signature faint smile appeared.  _How does she do this to me?_

"And I apologize. You didn't deserve that tonight."

He could still surprise her, it seemed.

Smiling at him, she leaned over to the laptop and opened it. "Okay then. So let's look at what you found here on Gloriana Campo, so we can go talk to her in the morning." She couldn't see the laptop while sitting across from him, so got up and sat next to him as he slid over a little to let her in.

He glanced sideways at her as she opened up the file he'd been looking at earlier. He appreciated her direct approach with him. She was a rookie agent, yet she went toe to toe with him and gave as good as she got. Yes, she infuriated him at times.  _Okay, a LOT of times._  But he also begrudgingly admired her tenacity.

_She's a hell of a lot like me…_

Two seats down from them Reddington leaned his head back, propping his hat over his eyes to catch a nap before they landed.

He'd heard most of their conversation and had certainly seen the interplay between them. They were completely blind to it, but he could see it clear as day. He smiled to himself. These two were going to be a gas to watch.


	3. Cabin in the Woods

_This is from The Stewmaker, right after Liz has been taken away by the ambulance. This was originally just going to be a conversation between Ressler and Keen after her ordeal. But it took on a life of its own, and I ended up having a longer scene at the cabin, giving Ressler some interaction with Malik. And of course, I had to throw in Aram too! (So I hope it doesn't ramble on too long!)_

* * *

"He is on my jet," Reddington explained knowingly.

 _Of course of he is._ Ressler watched Red walk away, wondering again how the hell Red played everyone so well.

 _Including me - for 5 years._ Case in point - he still had no clue how Red had beaten them to the cabin.

Dembe brought the car closer, then climbed out to hold the door for Red in that quiet, polite manner he had. Ressler found it slightly amusing.  _We're at the top of a mountain, yet he still has valet parking._ He shook his head before turning and walking back up to the cabin to help process the evidence.

The sun was rising over the mountain now, daylight chasing the cool night away. Trudging back up the path with his eyes on the ground in front of him, he suddenly realized how tired he was. They'd been up all night, swarming over the mountain on foot and on a fairly steep incline in parts. They'd been searching for Kornish's cabin and he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been worried sick about Keen. At what they might find – or not find – if they had been too late.

The ground was damp beneath his shoes and footprints marked the pathway. He told himself he wasn't looking. That he'd just walk on by and not give it another thought.  _There it is._  He stopped suddenly on the path, looking down at his shoe prints and her smaller prints facing his. The place where Keen had crumbled and he'd caught her. The exact place where her sobs had wracked her body as she had clung tightly to him.

He told himself he had just been concerned for a fellow agent. She had been through a traumatic ordeal and was understandably emotional. So he had comforted her, been strong for her and done what she had needed.

He had just been doing his job.

_Of course you were._

Realizing he was still standing still, he started moving again – sidestepping their footprints to keep them intact. That wasn't lost on him.

_She'd have a field day profiling THAT._

He looked up toward the cabin where the tall oak trees stood as silent sentinels above it. It was located just below the summit, in a spot that ordinarily Ressler would have found inviting. It reminded him of the cabin his folks had in PG County. The peaceful solitude was marred this morning though, as FBI agents and police officers searched the area looking for Stanley Kornish.

Agents walked by him, carrying equipment to the cabin to catalog and collect evidence. A helicopter could be heard in the distance, providing air support to the agents and officers on the ground. The entire scene was swarming with law enforcement.  _Then why can't we find Kornish?_ They'd found his car, so the man had to be on foot.

Animal Control was leading a large dog toward a cage on the back of their vehicle, while an agent stood ready to process the animal. He hadn't noticed the dog until now, remembering there had been evidence of a dog at the first crime scene at the motel. His eyes fell on the huge animal. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that dog looked… sad.

He took another look around outside, prolonging the moment in the fresh air as long as possible before he entered the toxic air inside the cabin again. He hadn't got a good look at it when they had raided it in the darkness. When they'd stormed the cabin the first rush of air past them reeked of chemicals and all he had seen was Reddington, arms folded behind his head.  _What the hell had he been doing here?_

After Red informed him that Keen needed medical attention, she was all he saw after that as he'd quickly holstered his weapon. Checking her pulse with his hand to her cheek and worriedly looking her over, it was obvious she'd been drugged, but with what? He'd searched her eyes, trying to see how bad she was doing. All he had wanted to do was help her and get her out of that toxic chemical environment.

Malik saw him come back inside and approached quickly, removing the protective mask from her mouth to speak to him. They had no idea what they were breathing in and were taking precautions.

"I wasn't sure if you were still here."

"Why wouldn't I still be here…?" he asked her, glancing sideways at her.

"Well, I thought you might have gone in the ambulance with…" she stammered. Seriously? Had she really said that out loud?

"No. There's work to be done here," he answered, a little too quickly.

"Is Liz going to be okay?" she asked, changing the subject

"Yeah, I think so. The medics checked her and took her…"  _after she collapsed on the path…_  His voice trailed off as he took his first good look at his surroundings. Distracted, he took the protective mask that Malik handed him, holding it up to his mouth before he took a few more steps into the room.

For the most part, the cabin looked like nothing out of the ordinary. It had an old, musty look, sparsely furnished with worn out chairs and couches, a small wooden table and chairs, and torn curtains on the windows. The first sign in the main room that something was very wrong were the shelves and shelves of empty baby food jars. Possibly hundreds of them, each of them half filled with liquid and containing…souvenirs.

But the dank room he stood in contrasted starkly to the brightly lit, stainless steel room his eyes were drawn too. It was located off the main living area, accessible through two wooden doors that stood wide open.

The room where the Stewmaker had made his …stew.

"It feels more like a hospital in there, it's so clean and sterile," Malik said beside him.

"Not like any hospital I've ever seen," he replied, as she nodded in agreement.

Malik followed his gaze to the stainless steel bath that was surrounded by bottles, jars, and numerous containers of chemicals. The bath was filled with a red liquid that bubbled slightly, which was more than a little unnerving. His eyes scanned the stainless steel room, taking it all in, feeling more disgusted the more he saw. He walked toward it and stood in the doorway, unable to keep his eyes off the bubbling red liquid.  _Keen would have ended up in there._ He suddenly didn't want to go any further into the room.

He turned quickly, his gaze finally landing back on the wheelchair that Keen had been strapped into. He dropped his eyes then, licking his bottom lip behind his mask, before quickly looking back up at Malik, suddenly realizing she was beside him again.

"Yeah, it's unbelievable," she said quietly. It was more than just the horrors of the cabin that was on his mind, she knew that. Entering the cabin behind him with their weapons drawn, she had seen him immediately face Reddington – his familiar target. It was the change in him the second he saw Keen that had got her attention. Reddington had seen it too and even deflected her attention away from it by teasing her about her blouse. There was no hiding the elephant in the room though - Ressler soothing and comforting Keen in a tender manner neither of them ever imagined possible from the man. That had been …unexpected.

"We still can't find Kornish," she added, having just received an update from the agents outside.

Ressler turned and looked at the bath again. He had a gut feeling where Kornish was. So did Malik.

"Keen couldn't have done it. She was bound and …in no condition to… So either Kornish committed suicide in his own vat, or Reddington killed him."

"My money's on Reddington," she said determinedly

 _'We've had a little incident…'_ Red's first words to him as he'd barged into the cabin echoed in his ears. _I need to have a chat with Red about that 'little incident'._

He dropped his eyes from the bath, looked briefly at the wheelchair again and then back up at her.

Malik may not have been on the task force for very long, being on loan from the CIA, but right now she was reading Ressler like a book.

"Look, there are far more agents in here than we even need…why not head back to the Post Office while we gather the evidence? There's a chopper standing by outside to take some personnel back to DC," she offered, watching him carefully. She didn't want to overstep her mark, but the man didn't need to be here right now. He was of better use …elsewhere.

"Agent Keen will need …debriefing. If she's up to it, of course…" she added, playing her final card.

He knew what she was doing. He wasn't that much of a blundering Neanderthal. Truth is he did need to get back and report to Cooper – and try and find Red. And if Keen was up to talking, then yes, they needed to hear what she had to say. Anything else Malik may have been implying was just… He had just been doing his job.

_Of course you were._

Attractive but treacherous - wasn't that how Reddington had described Malik on meeting her? He glanced sideways at her, trying to read her.  _She's a woman - and a CIA agent. Give it up._

###

Keen arrived at the Post Office, having been discharged from the hospital a little while ago. Cooper had sent an agent to pick her up, and the agent had relayed the Director's options to her – be driven back to the black site, or be taken home.

She chose the Post Office. Home didn't feel like home right now.

As she stepped out of the elevator she was greeted by Cooper striding toward her.

"Agent Keen, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine sir, thank you..." She replied, knowing full well she really wasn't fine and looked a complete mess.

"Good to hear. If you're up to it, we'd like to ask you a few questions about what went down today. Or if you'd rather, I can have a car take you home.

"I'll be able to answer some questions, sir."

"Very well. When Agent Ressler returns we will come find you." He looked at her a moment longer, taking in her disheveled appearance and unkempt hair.

"Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to be taken home? We can always do this tomorrow."

She didn't want to go home right now, feeling unable to face Tom when she felt like this. She mustered up a smile for the Director. "Quite sure, thank you sir."

He seemed satisfied, nodded and headed back to his office.

As she was making her way to her office, Aram saw her and immediately left his desk.

"Li….Agent Keen, how are you feeling? Can I get you anything? Coffee? Or are you hungry, I can get you something to eat, if you'd like?" he was hovering, and babbling, he knew. She looked so …lost, that he couldn't help it.

"Some cold water would be wonderful, thank you Aram." He grinned and hurried off to find her a bottle of water.

She made it to her office and slowly sank into her chair. The relief to be off her feet was palpable. Her head was aching and she rummaged around in her drawer for some headache pills, not finding any.

Aram was back, knocking at her door before entering. "Agent Keen, I have a bottle of cold water for you. I also got you a cup with some ice in it, too. Are you sure I can't get you anything else? Are you sure you're not hungr-"

"Actually, could you find me something for a headache?" she interrupted him, taking the water.

He smiled and nodded quickly, glad to be of service to her. "Absolutely! I'll be right back." And he turned quickly – and plowed headlong into Ressler who had just walked through the door.

"Agent Ressler! I am so sorry! I didn't see you there! I was just going to get Li…Agent Keen some…"

Ressler waved him off, stepping out of his way. Aram took a quick look at Keen and then fled from their office.

"I think you rather enjoy scaring the crap out of him," she said with a faint smile.

He ignored her comment, as he looked at her. "You alright?" he asked quietly.

She hesitated before answering, before telling him the truth as opposed to what she'd told Cooper. "I don't know…I think so… I think I will be at least…"

He nodded. "Rough day, Keen. Just give it time." He then sat down in his chair, stretching out his back muscles, and sighed.

"You look tired," she observed.

"Tell me about it. You look …tired too, Keen." He thought it prudent not to tell her she looked like hell.

"Right." She knew he was being polite. She had a change of clothes in her locker and would have loved to go take a long, hot shower and clean up, but right now she couldn't even move out of her chair. Every muscle ached and her head was pounding. I'll do that later, she told herself.

"Cooper wants to go over what happened today."

"Yeah, I saw him when I came in. He's on the phone though. Indicated it could take a while," he replied.

Aram was back again, knocking nervously on their door. "Agent Keen, I found these for you." He quickly came in and gave her some headache pills.

"Aram, you're a life saver. Thank you!" and she smiled at him. He grinned back at her and turned to leave, the grin instantly dropping from his face as he saw Agent Ressler.

She poured some water in the cup and immediately downed a couple of headache pills.

"Didn't they give you something for that headache at the hospital?" Ressler asked, watching her.

"They did, but they said the after effect of the sedatives and drugs …and the chemical fumes …could hang around a while…" her voice trailed off as her eyes took on a faraway look.

He was watching her carefully, not sure if she was up to talking about it. Actually, he wasn't even sure he was up to it.

"I know Cooper isn't here yet, but do you want to talk about it…? He asked gently.

She was still looking off into the distance, her mind back in a cabin, bound to a wheelchair as a sadist injected her with pain. "I'm not sure where to start…it was all so… He was giving me sedatives that made me dizzy and out of it…" Her eyes finally focused back on him and he spoke again.

"We don't have to do this now… We can wait till tomorrow," he decided.

"He had a son…"

 _Had._  He immediately noticed she spoke of Kornish in the past tense. She had seen what Reddington had done, he just knew it.  _Damn you, Red._

"Yes, I saw him when we spoke to Mrs Kornish. He looked about ten years old."

"Eleven…" she said slowly, remembering Kornish calmly telling her how he'd married late and had a child late in life.

"Keen, did he hurt you, I mean, apart from the drugs of course. Did he hurt you in any…other way…?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the answer, but they needed to know.

"Not like that, no…" she knew what he was asking, and saw his shoulders drop in relief. "He was almost kind. Like a quiet spoken grandfather. But then he was also a strange mix of kindness and sadist, all in one. He apologized to me that he had been told to make me suffer …but that didn't stop him doing it. And then Red!" She stopped, gasping.

He looked up at her quickly at that. This is what he needed. "Keen, how did Red get there?"

"I don't know, he was just there. I suddenly saw him behind Kornish, right as he was about to inject the final dose of… and then Red was there and stopped him!" She was breathing faster now, at the memory of exactly how Red had stopped him.

"Why did Red kill Kornish?" He couldn't help it. He needed to know what had happened.

She didn't answer and was right back in the cabin again, as Red turned her away so she couldn't see. And she knew right then what he didn't want her to see. His monologue of the farmer had seemed so surreal. So calm, yet so sadistic. Just like Kornish. She'd never heard Reddington use that tone and he was terrifying. Her eyes grew wide at the memory. And then right when she had thought maybe, just maybe Kornish could live, she had heard the change in Red. And she knew it was over. Her ears were filled with the sound of Kornish hitting the chemical bath and the odor was everywhere.

She started shaking then, panting hard at that vision in her mind.

 _Damn it. You pushed her too hard._  He left his chair and quickly went to her, leaning toward her. They were in the exact same positions as they had been in the cabin, her sitting and him before her and he suddenly resisted the urge to touch her cheek.

"Keen," he said, and she finally looked at him, blinking hard and suddenly focused back in their office. A tear rolled down her cheek as she held his gaze before she finally answered his question.

"Because he's a monster…" she whispered.

She was looking at him in front of her, and suddenly the memory of sitting in the wheelchair and seeing the door fly open as Ressler stormed into the cabin came flooding back. She remembered the one thought that had sprung to her mind when she had seen him, that she had clung to as he had leaned down to check her - that her Boy Scout was here at last. And at that memory the dam broke and she cried in earnest.

And this time, he did touch her cheek again. He didn't even realize he was talking softly to her, soothing her with the same tone he'd used in the cabin. But she knew.

###

Across the bullpen, Aram sat at his desk trying not to look into their office. He couldn't stop glancing that way though, knowing Liz was very upset. But Agent Ressler was with her and he looked almost…kind… He didn't think he'd ever seen Agent Ressler look like that before. That was good though, right? That's good that Liz had a …friend… she could talk to.

Above Aram, Director Cooper had stopped halfway down the stairs, also looking into their office. Agent Keen was obviously very distraught, but Agent Ressler seemed to have the situation in hand. He dropped his eyes to give them some privacy before heading back up to his office. The debriefing could wait until tomorrow.


	4. Tom and Gina

_This is taken from Gina Zanetakos and starts as Tom is being led away after he's been brought to the Post Office. On watching the episode several times, I never could decide on just one scene to set a conversation between Ressler and Keen, so I decided to follow them throughout their day. So it has a few scenes reflecting what was going on throughout that episode. (Not sure I'm as happy with this format though - it didn't flow as well as I'd like.)_

* * *

"Where are they taking him?" she asked Ressler worriedly, as Malik lead Tom away for questioning.

He hesitated for a second. "If I were you, I'd worry about myself," he told her, and turned and walked away. Protocol dictated that he couldn't tell her in case she was involved in this. But truthfully, he walked away because he couldn't bear to look at that anxious expression on her face a second longer. And he didn't like admitting that to himself.

"Ressler, wait!" She hurried to catch up to him. She wouldn't allow him to just dismiss her like that.

He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes briefly, before turning to face her again.

"I brought him here to clear his name, not because I think he's guilty of anything," she explained, as he looked steadily at her.

"I know that," he said evenly.

She looked around quickly, seeing other agents in the vicinity. "Can I talk to you? Privately…?" she asked, dropping her voice.

"Keen, that's not a good idea. Not with your husband in here about to be interrogated for murder." Rules were a bitch at times. He wanted to talk to her too and find out what the hell had happened that would cause her to bring in her husband. But it had to be done correctly. He wasn't even in on the interrogation because he was her partner. He needed to be careful with this. They both did.

He was right, she knew that. "I know… I just…" she looked at him desperately.

For a moment he thought she was going to cry.  _Don't do that, Keen. Not here._ His expression softened and he quickly glanced around, then took her elbow and moved her off to one side where there was more privacy.

"Look, I can't imagine how difficult this is for you. But in order for this investigation to be carried out correctly, you can't tell me anything you may know about it, understand?" he spoke quietly, needing her to get the point. That he wasn't doing this to be cold toward her. He was just doing his job – which wasn't always simple, especially on days like today.

She nodded. He was absolutely right. "I understand that. But I think Reddington is setting him up," she suddenly said.

He hadn't expected that. In fact, why hadn't he thought of that? Given the last 7 weeks, anything was possible where Red was concerned. He looked at her, choosing his words carefully.

"And if that is the case, it will be uncovered. We will find that out, Keen. Malik is in with your husband and you know what a first class interrogator she is."

"Yeah, that's also what scares me…just how ruthless she can be. This isn't Tom's world! He teaches 4th Grade for goodness sake!"

She couldn't believe she'd brought him in now. She had handed him over to a CIA agent who would grill him relentlessly. She had warned him that they'd be separated and they'd comb through their lives. Tom may have nothing to hide, but that didn't make this any easier. What had she done?!

"Malik will find the truth though." He told her, trying to reassure her, but knowing there was nothing he could say that would help her feel reassured.  _If this had happened with Audrey, how would I have felt…?_

"I know. It's just hard," she said quietly.

He looked at her, and before he could reply her phone rang. They both looked down at it and saw Cooper's name on the Caller ID. Their eyes met for a second before she turned away to answer it.

"Yes Director, I'm on my way up now."

She walked toward Cooper's office, leaving Ressler standing near the elevator. He suddenly found himself hoping against hope that she wasn't involved in this. That would be very difficult to take.

###

"Ressler? Why do you have her phone? Did you find her? Did you stop her?" She bombarded him with questions over the phone.

His head was spinning. Or was it the elevator that was spinning?  _Damn it, everything is._  "Not exactly…" he gasped, and hung up on her. He leaned back and closed his eyes, unable to get up off the floor just yet. Gina Zanetakos had just got the best of him – and he wasn't feeling too proud of that fact.

"Ressler?" The line had gone dead. Concerned, she called the number again.

He heard the phone ringing and knew it was her again. He reluctantly picked it up, answered and held it to his ear without saying anything.

She was on her feet now, heading out into the hallway. "Where are you?"

He looked up at the floor number on the panel, barely making it out. "Elevator. Lobby."

"I'm on my way!"

"I'm fine, Keen…" he panted, and hung up on her a second time.  _I can't talk right now._ She didn't have to be so concerned. He'd certainly had worse than this happen to him. He climbed shakily to his feet, just managing to stop the elevator doors from closing before he exited.

She made her way quickly down to the lobby where she found him leaning against the wall by the elevators. His lip was bloody and he was slightly flushed and out of breath, but he seemed fine. His shirt and tie were disheveled, which suddenly struck her as amusing - Agent Ressler's "uniform" was out of place.

"What happened?" she asked him, as he handed her Gina's phone for evidence.

 _Yeah, like I'm telling you that._  "Let's just say I met Gina Zanetakos, and leave it at that," he said breathlessly, standing up from the wall and wiping his bloody lip.

She nodded tactfully. He'd done more than 'meet' her. She was trying not to see the humor in this but it was bubbling just under the surface. "Did she say anything?"

"No." He walked toward the main lobby then, with her beside him.

"Oh, our dead guy up on 12 is being taken care of by the other agents." She remembered, letting him know she hadn't just left the crime scene unattended.

He glanced sideways at her nodded and then abruptly stopped. He looked around the lobby quickly, before hurriedly heading to the closest Men's room.

"Ressler…?" She called after him.

He didn't answer her as he pushed the door open to the bathroom. Rushing into a stall, he made it just in time before he threw up. When he was done, he closed the lid and sat down with his eyes closed, waiting for the wave of nausea to pass. Once he felt steadier he went to the sink and washed his face. He looked at the bruise forming on his left cheekbone before cleaning up his cut lip as best he could.

The door opened and in walked Keen, who stood behind him looking at his reflection in the mirror.

He looked up into her reflection, his face wet. "This is the men's room, Keen."

"Yup, noticed that. Are you okay?" she asked him, searching his eyes.

"Yes," he nodded and grabbed some paper towels to dry his face. He then straightened his shirt and tie, aware she was watching him the whole time.

He certainly looked better now – with his 'uniform' back intact. She smiled inwardly at that.

"Need my comb?" she teased and he looked up and scowled at her.

"Let's get out of here," he replied, striding by her and exiting the bathroom.

She caught up to him outside and there was no way she could hide the smile now. "You know you got beat up by a girl, right?"

He rolled his eyes as he walked in front of her. "Drop it, Keen."

She started laughing softly then, walking a step behind him as they made their way through the lobby.

"It's not funny."

"Yes it is," she grinned, trying to hide her laughter under her hand.

He stopped and turned back to her.

"Okay… maybe it is," he admitted, shaking his head and seeing the humor in it now, before ruefully giving one of his half smiles. After the day they'd had, and with the certainty it was only going to get worse before it was over, it felt good to just put things aside for a minute _._

After she could look at him without cracking up, it occurred to her that this was the first time today she had not been worried sick about Tom – and that had been very welcome, even if it had just been for a few moments.

###

Their afternoon had not gone well – and that was putting it mildly. It had culminated in Gina getting shot, something that Keen was still furious over. Ressler wasn't too happy about it either, even though he'd done the right thing in stopping Zanetakos from stabbing Keen. Things had only got worse for them when she had stormed into Cooper's office. Their shouting match at each other in front of the Director was definitely a high point of their afternoon. The stress of the day was taking its toll.

Keen was outside in the hallway, having left the Directors office to call Reddington. She hung up from Red, then immediately called Cooper to relay the information on the Port of Houston being the target. Still in the Directors office, Ressler got up from the chair to go and get ready to head out when Cooper stopped him.

"Agent Ressler, I understand these past 7 weeks have not been easy. They haven't been easy for any of us. The fact is though, we're getting results. Though I'd be lying if I said I was happy with just how we're getting those results. But as a personal favor to me, this…conflict…that you have with Agent Keen needs to go away. Whatever you may feel about her being the liaison with Reddington, needs to stop now. Have I made myself clear?"

Ressler looked at him evenly, not saying a word.

"Agent Ressler, have I made myself clear?" Cooper repeated.

"Yes, sir," he replied, before turning and leaving the Director's office.  _This day just keeps getting better and better._ He flew down the stairs to their office and grabbed his gear, thankful that she wasn't in there. A few other agents were assembling at the elevator and he jogged to meet them, stepping inside right at the last second. The elevator bore them to the parking lot, where three vehicles were waiting. He spied Keen near the middle vehicle and barely glanced at her before getting into a different vehicle. Yes, he knew he was being …juvenile. But right now he needed some space.

She was actually relieved he'd got in a separate vehicle so she wouldn't have to deal with him. His "seven years vs seven weeks" outburst was still ringing in her ears. As the convoy pulled out of the parking lot, it wasn't lost on Cooper that the two of them were keeping their distance from each other. Under the circumstances, he felt that was probably for the best. It would give them time to cool off.

The jet was standing by on the tarmac as the black Suburban's pulled up beside it. Agents hurried from the three vehicles and headed straight up the stairs of the small plane. Keen went immediately to the back of the plane. Ressler chose the front.

Half way through the flight, he was sitting alone with his own thoughts. He'd had a glimmer of hope that morning that Red could finally see he needed to talk directly to them. But that lasted about 3 seconds as Cooper looked at him and said there'd been a change of plans. Without Keen, there was NO case. No Reddington to supply the information.  _But hey, I can play nice about that._

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone vibrating with a text from Cooper. He read it and felt some relief for the first time in two hours. He knew Keen was sitting at the back of the plane but didn't feel like walking down to face her just now. Not wanting to call her on board, instead he typed a text of his own to her.

She sat alone at the back of the plane, her head filled with Tom, Gina, bombs and Reddington. Red couldn't be right about Tom and Gina being lovers. There was no evidence to support that …but there was that photo of Tom found in Gina's apartment… She couldn't go there. Reddington was setting Tom up, she just knew it. Why though? She had no idea.

Actually, what was bothering her most right now was her darned partner. If his shooting Gina Zanetakos was going to prevent her from absolving Tom… That just didn't bear thinking about. Not to mention his tearing strips off her in Cooper's office. Well, she'd torn a few off him too. She guessed they were even on that one.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, just wanting some peace from the worry over Tom and all of this. It was short lived as she felt her phone vibrate. The text was from Ressler, which was unusual as he normally didn't text, preferring to just call her.

[GZ is out of surgery] He had typed.

She was still irritated at him, but was relieved he had let her know that.

[Thank you] She replied back to him.

He hesitated then sent her another text. They were about to land in Houston and they needed to be on the same page. How ironic that he was going to take on her usual "peace-maker" role and try and at least talk to her civilly.  _Well, text her civilly. I can play nice._

[She will be well enough to talk to us later today.] He typed, figuring that would appease her somewhat.

[I needed to talk to her now.] She wasn't going to let him get away with that so easy.

[I know that] He shot back at her.  _Let it go already, Keen._

[What did you want me to do? Let her stab you?] He added, before she'd even replied.

She read what he'd typed, but she'd known that all along. It hadn't made it any easier and she would have done the same thing under the circumstances. She was just frustrated and worried about Tom and this day was getting worse by the minute.

[You did what you needed to do. I know that.] She relented.

[I know it wasn't the result we had hoped for.] He replied.  _I can do this._

[Really? You think?] Okay, that was harsh. She knew that.

He read her text and rolled his eyes. His phone then vibrated again with another one from her before he could even reply.

[At least we didn't make the 6:00 o'clock news.] She said quickly, trying to lighten the mood.

They were starting to descend and she knew that the last thing they needed was to be at each other's throats – or ignoring each other. Not when they had two hours to find a dirty bomb.

[Always my goal. We'll be landing soon.] He replied, satisfied for the moment. Man, this was worse than being married.  _Not that I got to know what that would have been like, Audrey…_

[Talk to you when we get to the dock.] She told him, letting him know she was over their …separation.

He read her reply, nodded to himself, and put his phone back in his pocket.  _That wasn't so hard, was it?_  Now they could finally get back to work.

###

They were watching the car being crated off the ship as Ressler looked anxiously at his watch. They were almost out of time and the crane was agonizingly slow.  _If that thing doesn't hurry up, well, at least this bad day will be over real quick._

"This isn't going to work. We've got less than a minute," he said, looking at the car bomb coming to rest in front of them.

"It'll work," she told him.

The crane stopped and Ressler ran around to the driver's seat. "We're running out of time!"

Keen didn't even have time to react as she saw what he was doing. He was in the driver's seat with half a minute to go. Starting the engine, he had a momentary flicker of dread that starting the car might in fact set the bomb off. It was a little late to think of that at that point. It didn't blow. He throttled it forward, one eye on the countdown beside him. At 17 seconds, he turned the car toward the water and with 13 seconds to go he opened the door and tumbled out onto the dock.

Seconds later the bomb went off under the water, spraying the area in a huge cloud of white water. The shock wave pushed him back down to the ground, but the blast had been contained underwater, just as they'd hoped for.

Climbing to his feet, he dusted himself off and walked slowly over to the edge of the dock. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at where the car bomb had exploded. The water was still churning, and as a few pieces of debris started floating up to the surface now, he hoped there was no radiation left.  _Or there goes my chance at any junior Resslers one day._

The Bomb Squad and FBI agents walked up toward the scene, and as they arrived Keen came and stood beside him. Further up the dock, lights were flashing as emergency crews headed their way having had reports of an explosion. _You're a bit late guys. Show's over._

"Why did you do that? These guys are trained in this stuff," she asked him, indicating the Bomb Squad.

He shrugged, looking sideways at her, "Seemed like a good idea at the time."

"Ever the Boy Scout," she replied, relieved that this had worked out in the end and they were all in one piece.

Her phone vibrated with a text message and she saw it was Malik, letting her know Gina was awake. She held the phone up so Ressler could see the text, and he nodded. Their day was nowhere near done yet, but things were looking up at last. They still needed to talk to Gina but most of all, she ached to get back and be with Tom.

"Let's roll," he told the gathered agents, leaving the Bomb Squad to the remnants of the car as the police pulled up. The group began to make their way back up the dock, as the black Suburbans were being driven down to meet them. As the two of them walked together a few steps behind the group, she noticed him limping a little and looked sideways at him, arching her brows.

"I'm fine," he told her, rubbing his hip a little where his gun had dug into him as he'd rolled on the ground.  _  
_

"You're a mess," she said, smiling and shaking her head at him.

"All in a day's work."

"Need my comb?" she added, teasing him again.

He rolled his eyes at her, a faint smile making an appearance as he opened the door for her. "Get in the car, Keen." And they headed back to the airport – in the same vehicle this time.


	5. A Death in the Family

_This is taken from General Ludd, after Keen hears Sam has died. I just wanted to give Ressler and Keen a quiet scene together after she crumbles at that news, so it has a 'soft' tone to it. (Well, I hope it does, at least!)_

* * *

The airfield was just like any small airfield in any small town. Single engine planes in hangars, and a control tower that tried to be just like its larger counterparts, but couldn't come close. The drone of another single engine plane landing in compliance with the FFA shutdown could be heard in the distance. The sound reached Ressler as he cuffed Nathaniel Wolff, while the prisoner goaded the FBI agent, asking if this job was really worth it. Ressler ignored him, unable to stop watching his partner by their vehicle.

She'd had a hard afternoon, he knew that, but he had to hand it to her, she'd kept on going with this difficult case all day. The calls from her husband had been coming regularly and while she hadn't filled him in completely on what was happening, he knew the calls were all bad news regarding her father. Well, her adoptive father, but that was just semantics. She referred to him as Sam, rather than her father, but the man had raised her and was to all intents and purposes her real father.

She had brushed away tears on their way to the airport to apprehend Wolff and he'd quickly looked over to her. She composed herself though, leaving him confident she could handle what was coming with their suspect.

The cuffs were in place around Wolff's wrists now and Ressler had to admit, he'd pressed them together with a little more pressure than needed. Perhaps he took a little pleasure in that though, as a little payback for their having been almost blown up at another airport earlier in the day. Falling down on the tarmac with glass raining down on them, their ears feeling blocked for some time after had not been the highlight of their day. They had been knocked off their feet but were unhurt and after the few weeks he'd had, that was a welcome change.

Keen's phone rang again as he was handing Wolff off to the agent nearby. His stomach dropped. Something about this call was different and part of him just knew this was not an update on Sam's condition. Her eyes met his briefly as she answered the phone before they glazed over as she listened to her husband, he assumed, on the other end. This call was much worse.  _Damn it… She's crying now._  He didn't want to think what that could possibly mean.  _Has Sam got worse? Has he been taken to the OR? Or, has he….died?_

Looking at her, he felt torn. On the one hand, here was a 'damsel in distress' right in front of him and he should do something. On the other hand, what if she just needed a moment to compose herself and didn't want him…interfering? So he looked at her, looked down in indecision and then looked back up, deciding in that moment he needed to go to her.

Tears fell as she leaned on the side of their vehicle now, still holding the phone to her ear. She wasn't saying anything and all he could hear were her strangled sobs as he approached.  _Yeah…definitely dead…_  She wouldn't react like this to anything else. Unable to hold herself up, she sunk down into a squatting position at the car door now and as he reached her he squatted beside her too. Hesitantly, he placed his hand on her back…unsure if she wanted him there, or wanted him to quietly ignore her and give her some space.

Apparently, she wanted him there. He felt somewhat relieved that he'd made the right call when she reached out her hand to his arm, making contact with him. She hung up the phone and it dropped to the ground. He reached down and deftly picked it up while maintaining their contact and dropped it into his coat pocket for safekeeping.

"He's gone..."

"I'm sorry Keen…" he said softly, right beside her.

"My daddy is gone…" she whispered, as if she were trying to convince herself of those words.

She turned her head to look at him, their faces inches apart, her eyes red and streaming. He blinked back sudden tears of his own that sprang to his eyes, but didn't fall. Something about seeing someone else cry always got to him. He needed to work on that. Men weren't supposed to be affected like that, he scolded himself gently.

He could hear the other vehicles pulling out now, taking their prisoner and leaving them alone at the hangar. They couldn't stay like this. Apart from the fact squatting down was hurting his thighs now, he needed to get her up and see if she could compose herself.

"Come on Keen…let's get you up here," he said gently. He stood then leaned down to help her to her feet. Supple as a rag doll, she let him pull her up, standing with her head down as she cried.  _Okay, now what…?_  For want of somewhere to take her, he led her to the hangar with his arm on her elbow, guiding her inside. A couple of couches lined one wall and he sat her down before sitting down beside her.

"Do you need me to call anyone for you…?" he asked hesitantly.

She shook her head, looking down at the floor.

"No…I have no one to call… I…" Her breath hitched and she reached out to him, her arm flailing. He quickly grabbed her wayward hand to steady her.

Unable to think of anything he could say that would possibly help her, he simply sat beside her holding her hand. His breath caught in his throat as she suddenly leaned into him, now needing more contact that just his hand. Instinctively he draped his arm around her shoulders, feeling her shaking beneath him. Her sobs increased and she turned her face into his chest, burying herself in him. He let go of her hand and encircled her with both arms now, hugging her close to him.

He found himself rocking her now, unsure what more he should do. He held her close, not even realizing he was whispering to her. He was a far better comforter than he gave himself credit for.

"I'm right here… it's okay…" he whispered in her ear.

"He's gone… gone…" he heard her murmur against his chest.

"I know… I'm so sorry…" And he really was, seeing her like this.

She was still shaking, in shock at the news.

"What do you need me to do...?" he asked her now, feeling he needed to be of more help.

"You're already doing it…" she told him softly.

"I mean, do you need to get to where your father is…where his body… Do you need to get to him…?  _Darn it. Way to go on saying the wrong thing…_

"Yes," she hiccuped, seemingly oblivious to his stumbling words.

Though the ban on flights had just been lifted, it was going to take hours for flights to get back on schedule. There was a plane that wasn't affected though. Reddington, with his ridiculous resources that never let the man run short on anything would be able to get her where she needed to go.  _How do I contact him though?_  That was always Keen's job.  _Wait…_  Letting go of her with one arm, he fished her phone out of his pocket.

"Keen, how do I call Red on your phone?" he asked her gently, still cradling her against him with one arm.

She mumbled something, and it sounded like 'Dick's Pizza'.  _Um, okay._ He looked through her contacts. No Dick…  _Oh, wait, we have a Nick's Pizza._ Bingo.

He dialed the number, and was surprised to hear Reddington answer on the first ring.  _Does he always jump that fast when Keen calls?_

"Lizzie, what can I do for you?" he answered genially, in that tone that always irritated the heck out of Ressler.

"It's Ressler," he told the man, suddenly at a loss for words.

"Donald? Is Lizzie okay?"

He glanced down at her, still buried in his chest and shaking. "No, she's not," he said shortly.

"I see… I assume that her father has died, Donald?"

"Yes…" he replied, still looking down at Keen.

"Where are you?" Red asked.

"We're in a hangar at the airfield where we apprehended Wolff, and with the planes grounded…"

Reddington cut him off. "I know where you are. Stay there and I'll be there soon." And he hung up. He already knew what Ressler needed of him. There were no planes in the air. Lizzie needed to be in Nebraska. Even Donald had figured out he was Lizzie's best shot at getting her there quickly.

Ressler took the phone away from his ear looking at it, shaking his head at it as if Red were right in front of him. The man infuriated him at times.  _Okay, all the time._ However, there was no mistaking he could deliver where others couldn't.

"He'll be here soon Keen…" he told her, not really sure if that was good news or bad news.

He felt her nodding her head. "Thank you…"

"He'll be able to get you…there…on his plane," he said softly, over explaining when he really didn't need to. She knew why Red was coming.

Having no idea what time frame 'soon' meant in Red's language, he made himself more comfortable on the couch and leaned back a little. She stayed with him as if they were melded together, it seemed. Oddly enough he found he was okay with that, holding her with one arm comfortably around her as she nestled into him. They sat quietly together, her gathering strength from his nearness and he feeling strangely calm with her so close. He couldn't hear her crying now and though she hadn't made any effort to move away from him, that was actually okay by him.

The sound of a plane landing reached him, and he was no expert, but knew that wasn't just a single engine. That was Reddington's Lear jet for sure. Keen's phone rang again, showing 'Nick's Pizza' on the caller ID, and he answered it.

"We're here Donald. What hangar are you in?"

He looked around.  _If you hadn't have hung up on me, I'd have told you that sooner._  "Hangar 8".

He heard Red giving instructions to his pilot and soon heard the jet taxiing to their location.  _Talk about door to door service…_ The small jet was literally pulling up beside them, the sound filling the small space. The engines cut off, thankfully returning them to relative quiet.

The door opened and Red stood at the top of the stairs, surveying the scene before him. The sight of Donald holding Lizzie wasn't exactly a surprise to him. He had seen what had transpired inside Kornish's cabin. The FBI agent had shown a different side to him since he'd met Lizzie, that's for sure.

Ressler kept his arm around Keen, yet he wasn't sure why. Reddington was here. The plane was here and it was time to get Keen on board and send her on her way. Why then was he still holding her and why hadn't she made any attempt to move away from him? Reddington was the one who broke their hold, figuratively speaking, leaning down in front of them. Ressler wasn't sure he liked him that near, but it was for Keen.

"Lizzie, my dear… I am so sorry about your father… I've come to take you there."

She finally lifted her head up from Ressler, and he immediately felt her warmth and weight disappear from his chest. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss that. He let his arm fall from her shoulders now as she sat up facing Reddington.

She rose from the couch as he remained seated momentarily, then suddenly leaned over and cupped his cheek in her soft hand, eliciting a small gasp from him.

"Thank you for being here, Ressler. It meant a lot."

"You're… you're welcome, Keen," he stammered.

Reddington smiled to himself, watching the two of them as she dropped her hand and then turned back to him ready to board his plane. He put his hand gently around her shoulders, guiding her to the steps.

"Come on Lizzie. Let's get you where you need to be, okay?" he smiled at her, reassuring her.

Ressler stood now, watching Reddington take charge, while once again he'd been relegated back to standing in the wings.  _No pun intended – we are in an airport hangar after all._  Just before Keen disappeared into the plane, she turned back to face him, their eyes locking together as she nodded to him. He gave one of his half smiles and nodded back to her, in a silent exchange that didn't need words. She turned and was gone from sight.

The plane engines roared to life again and Ressler stepped back out their way as they left the hangar, heading for the runway. Following them out he made his way back to their black Suburban and climbed inside. Unable to leave just yet, he watched a few minutes longer until the plane took off, carrying Keen off to the waiting comfort of her husband. He'd be lying if he said that sat perfectly okay with him.

He shook himself, starting the engine now, and made his way out of the airport to drive back to the Post Office. As much as he tried not to think about it, his mind refused to relinquish the memory of her leaning against him, his arm comfortably around her. And he was okay with that.


	6. Romeo

_This is from Anslo Garrick, Parts 1 and 2 combined. These episodes (and Mako Tanida) will always be so special to me. Ressler suffers so much - and so beautifully! So this starts right as Reddington is about to cauterize Ressler's wound to stop him bleeding out (and I apologise up front if too much of it is directly from the episode – but I needed to get Ressler's thoughts in there!)_

* * *

Raymond Reddington looked down at the pale, sweaty face before him. He'd seen men die before - too many times to count. Some had died instantly. Some had died slowly. And one thing was certain. Donald Ressler was slowly dying in front of him.

Every man has his time, he was aware of that. But despite their antagonistic relationship and their ability to piss each other off at every turn, darn it all, the FBI agent had actually grown on him. He admired the man's tenacity, and he didn't deserve to die inside a glass fortress meant for criminals like him. But despite his best efforts he was still going to lose him. Unless he did something radical - like setting the agent's leg alight.

Ressler could barely remember ever having existed outside the glass box.  _Coffin… glass coffin._  Time had stopped. His existence consisted only of excruciating pain, a heartbeat that was racing out of control and feet and hands that had long since lost their feeling. Sweat covered his cold body, plastering his hair to his head, making his lips taste salty.  _I'm not going to get out of this alive._

His left thigh, ripped apart and bleeding  _(more than a thimbleful)_  was slowly doing a flawless job of killing him.  _Drip, drip, Don. Drip, drip, drip._ And now Reddington was about to set his leg on fire.  _Because that's what you do when someone is dying in front of you….apparently._

His closed eyes barely blocked the greenish white glare from the fluorescents above him, but at least they blocked the sight of the man leaning over him.

"Hold still Donald, this will be over in a second."

 _Easy for you to say._ He barely heard Red as he stuffed his tie back in his mouth. His cold, bloodied hands were now clutching the steel bed behind his head. At least he thought they were, as they were just numb stumps now.  _Just do it, Red. Get it over with._

And then his world turned crimson as the knife cut into his leg. Fresh blood poured out as his heart hammered in his chest. Silk fabric was clenched in his teeth as his neck arched with the unendurable pain in his leg. Far above him he heard someone screaming and thought it might be him.  _That day is here my friend. And it will end with your screams. As God is my witness._

Swimming now in that greenish white light, he was drowning.  _Have you ever sailed across an ocean Donald…?_  Trying to reach the surface of agony and dizziness, he struggled for air in the depths. His heart threatened to explode as fresh, cold sweat sprang to his face. Ragged gasps struggled from his lungs as his body fought to stay conscious – but it was losing that battle rapidly.

The screams were receding into the distance. The light was dimming and he was sinking, arms now falling to his sides as the glass box fell away and the light faded to black. Floating in a dark void, he could no longer feel the cold steel bed under him. Muffled voices were in the distance, frantic voices, yelling about opening the box, but he couldn't speak to them. He thought he heard a gun shot.

 _Am I dead?_ If this was death, then perhaps it wasn't such a bad choice to have made.  _To stand at the helm of your destiny. So to speak._

The darkness was almost serene after the agony and noise of the past couple of hours in the box. Slowly his heart rate dropped to a less life threatening rate and his breathing steadied a little. Though traumatized, his body was taking a welcome time-out to regroup. His mind was having a little more trouble, however. Fragments of the day played around him like a broken movie. Voices. Images. They swam around him.

….."Free trade, Donald. Free trade." /  _That really was good German beer._  / "Donald you and I aren't done just yet." / "Little pig, little pig. You are going to let me in." / "This is going to be hugely unpleasant and very painful"/…you need a blood transfusion.  _Oh fu… I've got Reddington's blood in my veins. /_ "Bungled!"/"Think how much smarter you'll be after this." /"Oh, come on. Play with me." /  _That means I fight for your life, regardless of how badly I want to take it._ /"Feeling any wittier yet?" …

 _Shut up! Please….just shut up._ Being dead sure was noisy.  _Leave me alone and let me rest!_  And the voices obeyed, settling back into his mind, finding their correct places in his memory. He floated, relishing in the sensation of very little pain, though he still felt cold. One voice memory suddenly spoke up again, determined to be heard one more time.

….."I'm going to have to cut open your leg to get at the artery. Then sprinkle some combustible….."

_Oh my God. Reddington cut my leg open and set me on fire._

His mind shut down then, and he drifted off into a restless state of deep unconsciousness, the voices finally silenced.

###

"Ressler!"

 _What…? Someone is yelling my name…_ His head swung violently to the side as if someone slapped him, but he was unable to reach the surface.  _I can't….where am I…?_

Pain suddenly flared in his thigh. Agonizing and red hot, it ignited his body, forcing him to react. Screaming, his body rushed back to the surface, his eyes springing open in the blinding light to see Reddington right in front of him, looking right into his eyes.

"Son of a bitch!" His voice finally found itself. Reddington had his THUMB pressed into his thigh for God's sake!

"Look at me! I need you to focus, Donald. I need the code!" Red was right in his face, anxious. Scared.  _Scared?_

 _What the fu-!_ "Let go….let go of my leg!"

"Then tell me the code, NOW." Red insisted.

"Do not give him the code, Agent Ressler. That's an order." Cooper's voice could be heard over the speakers in the box.  _I'm not, sir._ The response came automatically in his mind.

Ressler looked up at Red, his face inches from his, questioning him.  _What the…?_  And then Red moved to the side in silent explanation, lifting his head up so he could see down his body and toward the glass door. And he saw why Red was scared.

Anslo Garrick had a gun to Keen's head.  _No. NO!_ His heart lurched in his chest.

Disheveled and bloodied, she was kneeling on the floor, Garrick's gun inches from the back of her head. She met his gaze, and shook her head imperceptibly _. Don't do it, Ressler. Please don't do it._ She begged him silently, pleading with her eyes.  _Not for me._ They couldn't let Garrick win like this; couldn't let him take Reddington.

Their eyes locked onto each other, a thousand words spoken between them in seconds. It wasn't going to end like this for her, not if he could help it. She didn't want him to compromise himself for her. Red was still holding his head up, and his eyes flickered back to him. Mouth set, Red stared at him, words unnecessary as he begged silently for the FBI agent to open the box. Ressler understood completely now.

He looked back at Keen, unable to keep his eyes off her.  _Keen! No!_ He saw something else though. It wasn't Keen who was covered in blood. The reinforced glass door was splattered in blood - cast off from a gunshot. _Who died?!_

 _Don't do it, Ressler._ Keen implored him with her eyes.  _Don't defy Cooper's order._ Ressler would likely be killed once he gave up the code, when he was of no more use to Garrick. She would rather die than let that happen.

If Red was scared at the thought of Keen being shot, Ressler was even more so. With his body shutting down due to the continued onslaught, and his mind refusing to work right, he had just realized something.

He had forgotten the code.

_No... Oh God, no. Think, damn it! Think!_

A phone suddenly rang, interrupting Anslo Garrick's quest to shoot Keen. Reddington lay Ressler's head back down as he went to the glass.

 _What is the code? What the hell is it? THINK!_ Anslo was talking to someone, telling them he was going to put a bullet in their wife's head.  _Tom Keen._

 _Think. You know this. You know this code!_ His heart was thundering in his chest as he tried desperately to remember.  _Keen will die unless you remember!_

And then Reddington was back again, suddenly not looking scared. Now he looked like a man cornered who had nothing to lose. Now he looked terrifying. Deftly picking up the gun from the floor, he retrieved the clip from the tourniquet in one fluid motion. The sudden release flared the pain in his leg again as blood that had been held back came rushing through.

Ressler's own weapon was abruptly pressed against his temple.

He searched Red's face, seeing the cold determination. "What are you going to do? Are you going to kill me? You just saved my life."

"Circumstances have changed Donald. If you can't save her, you're of no use whatsoever."

He didn't dare tell Red he had forgotten the code. The man would shoot him right then and there.

Keen was still kneeling on the ground, still silently begging Ressler not to give in. If she begged him hard enough and loud enough in her mind, perhaps he'd hear her. He had to obey Cooper's order!

Red was still in his face, the gun metal warming on his temple. "Look at me. Look at me." Ressler looked at him.

"Agent Keen will die. Now is the time."

_I know that! You don't need to hold my gun to my head to remind me!_

Keen knew him. Knew he'd give the code.  _Please, Ressler. Don't give it._ Knowing full well the Boy Scout in him would not let her die.

Time seemed to slow down. Collective breaths were held, waiting to see what the injured agent would do. Keen begged him silently. Cooper willed Ressler not to give in. They waited.

Ressler was focusing on Red's face, just as the older man had told him to do. _Wait. Just wait. Slow down…. Concentrate….. I was standing at the panel, Red had lifted me up…._ He kept his eyes focused on Reddington. _….Focus… Think…. You pressed some keys…..you know what keys..._

And it came flooding back.

"Romeo. The access code is ROMEO."

###

He was floating again. _Am I dead for real now?_ The blackness was different this time though. Far more comforting, and soft. This time he was aware of a soft bed underneath him. The blackness wasn't as encompassing as before, as a faint light reached him like a beacon in the dark.

"Donald…"

Faintly in the distance he heard a man's voice. He knew that voice but couldn't quite place it.  _Who…?_ He concentrated on that faint light, willing himself to move toward it.

"Donald….you're going to be okay."

_So, I'm not dead?_

"Circumstances have changed again, my friend….."

 _They have? Oh….that's Reddington's voice….._ He was still making his way to the light slowly, unable to move any faster.

_Wait…we're friends?_

"I know you can hear me…..it will be okay. But I need to leave for a while."

_When did we get to be friends…?_

"Anslo Garrick won't be bothering you again, Donald. I cleaned up that mess."

_The dude with the ugly face….oh yeah…Brussels._

"I wanted to see how you were doing before I left though. And you are going to be just fine."

 _Yeah….I usually am…._  He was almost to the light now, feeling like he was wading through water trying to reach it.

"I need to go now. But Donald, don't look back. Look forward now and be open to change. I know you're not good with change. Be open to whatever may come and to whoever may walk into….or come back into….your life."

 _Okay, got it…change….._  The light was so close. So close he could almost touch it now.

"Goodbye for now, my friend."

_Reddington… we're really friends….?_

He had reached the light. He now saw it wasn't just a light, but a doorway with light coming through it.  _All I need to do is just walk through that door….._

He walked through the door…..and slowly opened his eyes. He couldn't focus, but heard the all too familiar beep of monitors and IV's around him. He was in a hospital room, and he was alone.  _What happened…?_ He shifted very slightly, and pain radiated from his left thigh.

And then he remembered exactly what had happened.  _The box...I guess it wasn't a coffin after all…_

His eyes closed then as his body drew him down into sleep, unable to stay awake, as the sound of the monitors faded into the distance.

###

Keen showed her credentials to the FBI agent guarding Ressler's hospital room. The agent guarding the door had just made it back after a seven minute bathroom break, very glad not to have been caught away from his post by Agent Keen. He had no idea he had missed something during those few short minutes - Number 4 on the FBI's Most Wanted list had slipped into the room, and left just as silently.

As she entered the hospital room she looked toward the pale figure lying in the bed. Ressler was still out of it, sleeping off the anesthetic from his surgery. Sinking into the recliner, she looked at his monitors. Being no expert, she wasn't completely sure, but his vitals looked to be fairly okay. He was still receiving blood after his enormous blood loss in the box, as well as pain medication and fluids. Her eyes landed on him again, looking at his tousled blonde hair, so different to how he kept it gelled in place for work. He looked younger, and more peaceful than she'd ever seen him. There was no signature scowl, no frown, and no clenched teeth. He slept peacefully, still filled with the drugs from his surgery.

Tears suddenly broke free and flowed down her cheeks. Whether they were tears of relief, or tears of sadness, she couldn't tell. Perhaps it was simply a release from the emotions of the day - a day in which so many agents had died at the Post Office, they'd lost track of Reddington, and Ressler had barely made it out alive. When she and Aram had watched the video feed from the box, they had watched Red tending to Ressler. It had been surreal to see the criminal taking care of the agent, saving his life; after all they had been through as hunter and hunted over the years. There had been no sound feed on the video, so she had no idea what they were saying to each other. She couldn't help but wonder what had gone on between the two men.

As she was watching her partner, she saw his hand move slightly. Before she even realized it, she was out of the chair and standing beside the bed, reaching down to touch his hand. He still felt a little cold under her fingers, as she gently laid her warm hand over his. His eyes moved a little now, as if he were waking. He murmured something under his breath, still asleep. She couldn't make out what he was saying, and listened closer. It sounded like he was saying something about a coffin.

His eyes briefly flickered open, then shut again as the bright lights hit them. She quickly turned off the overhead lights, leaving the room in a much softer light.

"Ressler…" She spoke softly to him, leaning over him.

"…Audrey…?" His voice was rough, after having the ventilator down his throat during surgery.

She didn't know who Audrey was, and suddenly felt awkward. Did Ressler have a girl no one knew about…?

"It's Keen…"

"…Keen…okay..."

"You're in the hospital. You had surgery to repair your leg…" she informed him, unsure how much he would remember as he woke up.

"...Red…here…"

"No, he's not here Ressler. Just me and you…" She didn't want to burden him with the fact they had lost Reddington and had no idea where he was.

"… friends…" he said softly.

She wasn't sure if he was referring to her or not, but went with it. "Yeah, friends, Ressler…"

"…beluga caviar…"

That threw her a little. Well, he was groggy from the anesthetic and pain meds, so didn't know what he was saying.

"Um…sure," she smiled a little now.

"…wittier…"

She had no idea what that was in reference to, but reassured him. "You're going to be okay…"

"…I know…Red…"

"Yes… I don't know how much you remember, but the doctors said that what he did definitely saved your life today…"

"…Garrick…"

"He's dead Ressler. We found his body."

"….ugly…"

She smiled again. Well, yeah, Garrick's scar hadn't been the prettiest thing she'd seen today.

"…Keen…"

"I'm here…"

"…Romeo…"

Tears sprang to her eyes again at that. "I know... you had a gun to your head at the time, and had to give the code…"

"...no…gave it for you…"

She held her breath at that, tears falling again as she held his hand, looking at his soft features in the glow in the room as he lay with his eyes closed. "Thank you…"

"…forgot…"

"It's okay…things will come back to you as you wake up more…" She told him softly, knowing he was in that strange limbo between sleep and waking up.

"…Red…blood…"

She had seen Reddington giving him the field transfusion on the video feed. "Yes…he gave you some of his blood…"

"…drip drip drip…"

She smiled again. He wasn't going to remember any of this. Maybe that's why she leaned over and kissed his forehead, then gently brushed his cheek with her hand.

"You get some rest here. I'll stay here with you…"

He opened his eyes a little then, moving his head slightly to look at her as she sat beside him.

"…Keen…"

"You get some rest here now…." She smiled at him, her eyes still brimming with tears.

"….don't cry Keen….don't cry…friends..."

She nodded to him, holding his gaze, not trusting her voice any more.

He looked at her a few moments more until his eyes closed, unable to stay awake any longer. She had kissed his forehead and been holding his hand the whole time, and he would remember that, even if he never let on that he did.

She suddenly felt exhausted and while still holding his hand, lay her head down on the bed next to his arm. Within minutes, she was asleep beside him.


	7. Stubborn

_This is from The Good Samaritan. I didn't really concentrate on the case in my chapter, because I was much more interested in the fact Ressler was back at work, obviously in pain, and limping around on his cane!_

* * *

If there were awards handed out at the FBI for stubbornness, Donald Ressler would probably win most of them. In the 5 weeks since he had been shot and spent a lovely day in a glass box bonding with a criminal, he'd pushed himself far further than his doctors were comfortable with.

"Give it time to heal," they told him, and he promptly ignored them.  _I don't have time. I need to get back on my feet._

"Start slowly with the therapy," they told him. He promptly ignored that advice too.

Physical therapy sessions were torturous, sweat filled experiences of walking further, kneeling further and doing twice as much as his therapist wanted. Practicing the next exercises in therapy, he would then continue to do them in his hospital room and then his apartment after he was discharged. Pushing himself to tears often, all in an effort to return to the job he lived for.

On the morning he decided he was going back to work, the FBI medics certainly hadn't cleared him. Cooper knew nothing about it either. So when there was a knock on the Director's door early that morning before most agents had arrived, Agent Ressler was the last person he expected to see walking …limping…into his office.

"Agent Ressler? Why are you here?"

"I work here."

"Not until you're cleared. You know that." Cooper made no attempt at asking Ressler to sit. To do so would imply he was staying, and there was no way he was going to let that happen.

Ressler stood in front of his boss, leaning on his cane but standing as straight as he could. If he could do without the cane he would, but try as he might (and believe me, he'd tried), he just couldn't manage without it for now.

"Sir, I'm fine. I can handle coming back." He was trying not to sound as desperate as he felt. He needed to be back at work.

"You are limping around on a cane. Where are you going to hang that if you need to run for cover and draw your weapon while out in the field?" Cooper asked him pointedly.

Ressler glanced away, then back at Cooper. Of course the Director was right. He couldn't run anywhere right now, a fact that was aggravating him far more than he'd let on to anyone. Being… _crippled_ …was sucking the life out of him.

"Then assign me to desk duty." This was Ressler's plan all along, of course – make the Director think it was all his idea that he was making a 'compromise' and only allow him to come back to work in a minimal capacity. While desk duty would make him climb the proverbial walls (if he had a leg that could handle that), better that than being at home.

Cooper sighed, put his pen on the desk and looked squarely at Ressler. "Let me make myself clear. You are not coming back until I have a signed medical report on my desk telling me you are ready. Go home."

The two men looked at each other for a moment, Cooper raising his eyebrows as if to ask Ressler what he was still doing in his office. Ressler was the first to look away, realizing his gamble hadn't paid off. He almost felt like an 8 year old in front of the school principal. As he carefully turned to make his exit, there was a knock at the door and a woman leaned into the office.

"We're ready for Agent Ressler, Director."

The OPR investigation into the incursion and the hunt for the mole was in full swing, and Ressler was on their list of 'interested parties' they still needed to talk to. They had obviously seen him come in and were requesting his presence immediately, not waiting to be told he was officially back.

Trying his very best not to look too smug, Ressler turned back to the Director, knowing full well Cooper had no choice but to let him stay now. Leaning on his cane, he waited for the Director to give him his orders.

"Agent Ressler, would you go and talk to OPR and cooperate with their investigation. Thank you. That will be all," he said, cornered completely. Ressler thought the Director was gripping that pen a little too hard.

"Yes sir," he replied, swallowing his smile.

He followed the woman out of the Directors office toward the interrogation rooms, forcing himself to keep up with her as she strode down the hallway. If being able to stay at work meant talking to the Office of Professional Responsibility, then fine, he could do that. So there he was, not 10 minutes later, talking to the investigator about the day that almost took his life in the Post Office. The session started easily enough, with his name and ID. She asked him if he was aware of the investigation.

"Of course."  _I've been in my apartment, not on the moon._

"You were in the hospital for some time. How familiar are you with the events that took place in this facility when it was breached?"

Lifting up his cane from where it was leaning on the desk, he showed it to her. "Intimately."

The investigator didn't like his tone and wrote something on her notepad. Ressler held his head up, not giving the woman an inch.

"You were shot while protecting an FBI asset. While leading Raymond Reddington to the enclosure commonly known as 'the box', is that correct?"

"Yes." These were throwaway questions; he knew that, just gauging his responses. It was common knowledge what had happened to him that day.

"Did you have any knowledge of the incursion into this facility, prior to it occurring?"

He looked evenly at her. "No."

"You were the lead agent on the Reddington case for several years before he turned himself in, correct?"

"You know that's correct," he replied shortly.

"You had plenty of time to become familiar with many of Raymond Reddington's allies. Like Anslo Garrick."

"I never met Garrick before he paid us a visit," he told her.

"And yet, he knew of you. Had given you information pertinent to the Reddington case, correct?"

"Yes," he replied, not liking where this was going.  _Staying home might actually have been preferable to this._

"So in essence, you were an ally of the man who breached this facility."

He kept his voice even, looking at her steadily, refusing to let her read anything into his expression or see his growing distaste at this line of questioning.

"He was an informant. Nothing more. I had many of them in my efforts to track down Reddington."

"And yet this 'informant' killed several agents when storming this facility, on a day you had just brought Reddington back from overseas."

"And your point is?"

"Agent Ressler, did you give Anslo Garrick information that enabled him to breach this facility?"

His eyes bored into hers. "No."

"What was your mission in Brussels? How much information did Anslo Garrick give you regarding Raymond Reddington?"

He sat completely still, looking at her silently.  _Enough of this. I'm done._

She scribbled more notes on her pad, then looked at him again. "Are you refusing to answer?"

"Yes."

_Cooper will likely have my hide for that, but to hell with this woman._

"What happened in that box with Reddington?"

"He saved my life and then threatened to kill me. What he said while doing that is none of your business."

She looked at him steadily. Ressler returned her gaze unflinchingly, until she finally dropped her eyes.

"That will be all for now, Agent Ressler. We will have further questions for you, and will call you in when that time comes."

He nodded curtly to her, picked up his cane and hauled himself to his feet, refusing to let her see the effort that took. He tried not to limp (but failed miserably) as he left the interrogation room, and made his way down the hallway toward his and Keen's shared office.

By the time he reached his desk, sweat had sprung out on his forehead, and he was feeling decidedly nauseous. Not wanting to be drug impaired while driving in this morning, he had not taken his morning pain pill. His leg was letting him know now. In fact it was announcing it loud and clear. He would have preferred not using any pain pills while at work, but common sense prevailed. Quickly reaching into his pocket, he retrieved an Oxycodone from the packet before swigging it back with a small cup of water from the fountain. His hand shaking, he put the small paper cup back on his desk.  _Yeah…perhaps coming in this morning was a bit too much._

Willing the pain meds to work fast, he sat quietly at his desk, trying not to move and thinking about the session with OPR.  _Do they really think Garrick and I planned the whole thing?_ He'd done a lot of things he wasn't too proud of - including the said incident in Brussels - but selling out the FBI to a terrorist wasn't one of them.  _Keen calls me a Boy Scout. Yup…I really am that boring and by the book…_

The door opened behind him and Keen walked into their office.

"Hey, I heard you were back," she said, coming around to stand opposite him at her desk, studying him. He looked pretty good, she thought, though he was sitting and a cane was propped up against his desk.

He saw her eyes drop to the cane and hated that. The sooner he was done with it, the better.

"Yup, I figured this place needed my smiling face back here."

"You made a joke? Wow, what have you done with Donald Ressler?" she quipped.

He shrugged, then immediately wished he hadn't as a fresh jolt of pain hit his leg. The pain pill hadn't got the message yet that it was supposed to be blocking that.

"Seriously though, are you sure it's not too soon to return?" She could now see the pain behind his eyes that he was trying to hide.

The words 'I'm fine' sprang to his lips but he suddenly swallowed them. This was Keen, not Cooper. He pursed his lips, looking at her.

"Probably, but hey I'm here. In fact, I wasn't even in the building 5 minutes and OPR must have seen me, or smelled me, or…heard my cane tapping along the corridor… Anyway, I got hauled into a 'discussion' with them," he told her, while leaning back in his chair, twirling his pen absently in his fingers.

She looked steadily at him as she sat at her desk. There was something…different…about him. He wasn't as tense. He wasn't frowning. Despite the obvious pain from his leg, he seemed more…laid back?

"Oh yeah, we've all been dragged through that. That woman could make Mother Theresa feel as guilty as Osama bin Laden," she said, rolling her eyes at that memory.

He nodded his head, looking off to the side. "Yes…"

He looked up at her now. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said, again noting he would normally just come out and ask.

He paused momentarily, then continued. "Do you think I was involved in the incursion?"

She had a feeling he was going to ask that. Only because, one by one, as they hauled each of them up for questioning, that was the first thing they had all wanted to ask each other, but couldn't. Needing validation from their colleagues was important to them. To know each of them were on the same team and had each other's backs. They weren't supposed to discuss it among themselves, yet Ressler had come right out and asked her.

"Were you?"

He hadn't expected that. Actually he had expected a resounding 'no' from her. He realized his mouth was half open and he hadn't replied yet.

"No. I wasn't," he replied, looking her right in the eye.

She smiled suddenly. "I know. I just wanted to see you squirm for a minute."

"Well then, mission accomplished," he smiled at her - a full smile.

Keen was studying him. Yup. He was definitely different. Pain meds, perhaps? No… he almost died and it's affected him, changed him a little, and not necessarily in a bad way, she surmised.

"She also asked me what happened in the box with Reddington…"

A lot of that day was a pain filled haze, but some things were crystal clear. Reddington's 'wish list' of things he wanted just one more time had been startlingly vivid. And it wasn't so much what Reddington had said, but more the emotions it had stirred inside him as he lay dying. He understood the longing for missed opportunities and experiences that might never occur again. In that moment in the box, he had understood clearly how Reddington felt because he was feeling it too. The tears that rolled from his eyes had been for both of them.

She was watching him, knowing he was recalling being in the box with Reddington, her mind also filled with the images from the video feed.

"But you didn't tell her," she prompted, knowing him well enough to know he'd consider that irrelevant to their investigation.

The memories receded as he met her gaze across their desks. "No. She didn't need to know that."

"Ressler…if you ever do want to discuss what happened, I'm a pretty good listener," she told him, looking at him kindly.

"Oh yeah, the ramblings of a criminal… and me, bleeding out all over the place. Definitely a good topic for around the lunch table," he said lightly.

But then he nodded to her, knowing she was serious and also knowing she would understand anything he shared. Maybe one day he could bring himself to revisit that day in detail with someone else. And Keen would likely be that someone, because she was there that day. Because she understood what went down.

"But thanks. Maybe one day I'll take you up on that. But that could be a while…" he added.

"Whenever you're ready, I'll listen," she smiled, as he looked silently back at her.

So… you feel up to working a case? If you're sticking around, of course." Time to change the subject, before they both got too melancholy.

Of course he was sticking around. Cooper might want him to go home, but hey, OPR needed him available for more questions. And if talking to that woman again kept him at work, then she had just become his new best friend.

"What have you got?" he asked her, indicating the case file she was opening up.

Taking out some photos and handing them to him, she started telling him about the Good Samaritan case. He reached out for the photos, moving his injured leg, noticing that his nerves didn't rebel this time. The pain pill had finally got the message.

###

On a lead from the case, they arrived at the hospital a few hours later and made their way down to the level below the basement, where the morgue was located. Ressler had 'deliberately forgotten' to tell Keen he was only supposed to be on desk duty. If Cooper wanted to push that point, he could, but for now Ressler was ignoring it. Exiting from the elevator, he paused momentarily as he looked at the stark hallway in front of them.  _Crap, it's the longest hallway in the world._  He was determined that his leg was not going to stop him from walking the length of it though.

As they exited the elevator, she saw him look at the long hallway and hesitate a moment. If she slowed down her walking, he'd know and would hate that. So she walked at her usual pace, knowing he was pushing himself to keep up with her while trying very hard not to limp too much. She could hear his breathing getting harder with each step and admired his tenacity, but did he really have to be so stubborn about it?

They rounded a corner and with relief Ressler saw they were almost to the morgue. A man and a young boy were sitting outside - the victim's husband and son. The man stood up to ask them if they thought it really was his wife, and Keen gently told him that's what they needed him to confirm.

Ressler suggested to Keen that she take the husband in and he sit with the boy, Michael. Okay, so he needed to sit down – desperately – which was partly why he'd suggested it, and definitely why Keen had agreed with it. But he had looked into that little boys eyes, and felt… well, he wasn't sure what he felt, but there was something so lost about Michael that he wanted to talk to him.

Dropping heavily onto the seat beside the boy, he stretched his leg out and felt such relief to be off his feet. His leg was throbbing as he looked at the child and was again struck by how lost he looked.  _Kid just lost his mom, of course he's lost._  But it seemed more than that.

He spoke to him gently, and the young lad was scared his dad was in trouble. When he'd asked about Ressler's leg, and then offered that he'd once broken his collarbone, Ressler felt the boy was holding something back. When Michael looked worriedly up at him and asked when his dad was coming back, Ressler just looked at him quietly, taking in the fear in the boys eyes.  _This kid is in trouble…_

Keen was coming back out of the morgue now and as soon as Michael saw his dad, he went to him and stood close but didn't hug him, Ressler noticed.

They left Michael and his father, Ressler taking one last look at the boy before he turned and started the long walk back up to the elevators. Keen noticed the glance.

"That boy got to you, didn't he?" she asked, looking sideways at him.

"Kid's in trouble, Keen. I know he just lost his mom, but something's not right in that boys life."

"I never figured you for being good with kids," she told him, a little surprised at that.

He nodded, but didn't reply as the pain in his leg was now resounding heavily with every limping step he took. She heard his breathing coming in pants, the closer they got to the elevators. She shouldn't have had him come with her. Cooper should have just put him on desk duty.

The doors to the elevator slid open and Ressler thankfully leaned against the cold walls as they made their way upward. Keen glanced at his pale face as the elevator stopped and the doors opened to the parking lot.

"I'll go get the car and bring it closer…"

"No," he interrupted her, limping painfully past her toward where they had parked.  _I can do this._

Wrong thing to say, and she regretted it immediately. The man had his pride and she'd just squashed it.

He suddenly stopped and looked down at the ground panting, his body shaking now. When she caught up to him, he didn't meet her worried look.

"Keen…" he panted, his voice heavy with pain now.  _I can't do it._

She knew what he was asking, and how much courage it had taken him to admit it. She lightly touched his upper arm, feeling him trembling beneath her fingers.

"I'll be right back with the car."

He nodded to her, keeping his head down to hide the tears that had sprung to his eyes. He hated this. Not just the feeling of being helpless. He hated being dependent on others. But then, if he had to be dependent on someone, he was glad it was Keen.

The car pulled up to him then and she quickly came around and opened the door for him. He fell into the seat, letting out a gasp and closing his eyes as he laid his head back on the headrest. As she got in the driver's seat she looked worriedly at his ashen face and sweat beading on his forehead. The man was in agony, that was clear.

"Do you have any pain meds on you?"

With effort he reached into his coat pocket and held up a packet in his shaking hand. Taking a pill from the pack, she slipped the rest back into his pocket for him. Reaching into her purse in the back, she retrieved a bottle of water. Uncapping it, she handed him the pill and the water and he gulped it down thankfully.

"I hate this, Keen."

"I know. Try not to push yourself so hard and be so stubborn. Don't be your own worst enemy; take your pain meds on time and you'll do better."

"Yes, mom," he replied. Of course she was right. He knew all that.  _Then why do I do this to myself?_

"You gonna be okay?" she asked him.

He nodded, sipping on the water now. The pain pill should kick in by the time they reached the Post Office, where he'd be able to walk in much easier and do his job.

"Yes. Don't worry, I'm not going to throw up all over the car. I'll make sure of that." He rolled his head to the side, still leaning back on the headrest and looked at her. He suddenly chuckled at his own stubbornness.

She looked at him, wondering again just where the old Donald Ressler had gone. No matter. She was beginning to like this version much better.


	8. Cheers

_This is taken from The Cyprus Agency, and it's a scene I tagged onto the end of the episode. It starts after we see Liz crying at home because she knows her and Tom are 'broken' and she's said no to adopting the baby. So it's completely outside the episode, but refers to events in The Cyprus Agency, and The Alchemist. (And though it starts with Keen, of course, it's more about Ressler!)_

* * *

If Keen had to pick the exact moment her life started to unravel, she'd be hard pressed. Was it the moment the helicopter flew overhead on her first day of work? Or when Ressler showed his badge to her at the foot of their front steps? Or when she walked down the ramp to meet a criminal in chains, telling her how special she was? Or when Tom was stabbed in their living room?

All of the above. And so much more.

The baby carriage, baby shower gifts and 3D image of 'their' baby on the computer screen in front of her were the final straw. Everything she had thought she wanted was now lying in ruins around her. Unsure where Tom was, and if he would even be home tonight after he had left, she suddenly couldn't face being at home a second longer. Grabbing her car keys and jacket she fled the house, even if to just drive aimlessly for a while. After a few minutes though, it was clear she wasn't driving aimlessly.

Stepping out of the yellow elevator, the Post Office was quiet, semi dark, and felt more like home than home did right now. Keen walked quietly down the hallway from the elevator, and then noticed there was a light on in her and Ressler's shared office. Approaching it she could see Ressler sitting silhouetted in the glow of the lamp. There was no mistaking that haircut. Surprised to see him still here, she faltered, and almost headed back to the elevator to just go back home. That was what her mind suggested. However, her feet kept on walking toward him. Toward him? Walking toward her office, she told herself.

He looked up as she walked through the door, startled out of his thoughts.  _Keen?_  She took in the scene immediately. Him sitting alone at his desk with an empty shot glass of whiskey in front of him, shirt sleeves rolled up, his tie loosened, and the top button of his shirt undone. She stood in front of him, looking down at him as he leaned back in his chair. He spoke first.

"Keen, what are you doing here? You went home hours ago."

"I could ask you the same thing." She dropped her purse in the bottom drawer of her filing cabinet, studying him.

"I was just going through some files here…" And then stopped when he realized she could clearly see there were no files on his desk or open on his computer. He shrugged and looked up at her, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Don't guess you're falling for that one though, huh?" He looked at the empty glass, and back up at her.

"Nope, don't guess I am. What's going on…?" She sat at her desk now, across from him. She had been so focused on her and Tom and the baby she needed to think about something else for a bit. And something was clearly bothering her partner. He wasn't a great one for talking things out – understatement of the year – but he had got better at opening up to her now. Ever since he had returned to work after the Anslo Garrick incursion, he had been more open. More accessible. More…relaxed?

He swung around, straightening up more in his chair now to look at her head on.

"You first," he told her. Something was on her mind, that much was obvious. And he might just be a grunt guy but he knew when a woman had been crying - and when they'd been crying a lot. And Liz Keen had been crying a lot.

She sighed, leaned back in her chair and then looked at him. "You going to offer me a shot?" indicating the whiskey.

"Oh, right. Sorry." He leaned down and opened his filing cabinet, and produced the bottle and another glass. Pouring her one, he got up, wincing a little at his leg she noticed, and took it to her. Her fingers reached up to the glass, and for a moment, they both held the glass, their eyes drifting off it to look at each other silently.

He smiled at her then, releasing the glass to her. "Not exactly Cheers, but it'll do."

"Thank you," she said as she sipped her drink, resisting the urge to gulp it down.

"Your leg bothering you after you got hit today?" she asked, seeing him gingerly sit down at his desk again.

"Oh, it's not too bad, though I could definitely have done without that run in with the van," he replied, unconsciously rubbing his left thigh. The momentary fear when the van backed into him came back to him. For just an instant, it seemed like it was going to keep backing up, with him on the ground behind it. His life didn't exactly flash before his eyes – but another extended hospital stay did. That was NOT something he wanted to repeat for some time to come. _Ever, actually._

He poured himself another whiskey, waiting for her to start talking.

"I'm not sure why I came here. I just needed to clear my head and get out of the house. Somehow, my car seems to head here when I leave the house…"

He nodded, downing his glass of whiskey before putting the glass back on his desk.  _I know how that goes._ He let her talk.

"The case today…" she started, then hesitated.

Today's case had bothered her. It had bothered him, seeing those sweet little kids. But when they were talking to the Lassiters, he had seen something in her eyes. She had discovered something in herself while listening to the older couple.

"Tom and I…we are…were…so close to adopting a baby. But…" she stopped, looking down at her desk.

He finished the sentence for her. "But now you're not…" he said gently.

She shook her head, blinking back tears that she refused to let fall. She had cried enough tonight. "Tom and I are the Lassiters. Forty years earlier but it's the same story." He knew exactly what she meant.

"We're not ready. We are SO not ready. He thinks we are though."

"You both need to be ready Keen. It's a huge commitment, having a child," he said, and he surprised her with how gentle he sounded. Like this wasn't the first time he'd thought seriously about having a child.

She unconsciously rubbed the scar on her wrist. "It's more than not being ready though. There's something wrong…something not right with Tom and I, and I can't put my finger on it. And while I don't know how to fix it, I do know a baby won't fix it…"

He nodded to her again. "Not fair on the child either," he added, and she looked up at him. One day, Donald Ressler was going to make a wonderful dad. He would likely be a better dad than I would be a mom, she also thought. The tears were threatening to fall again and she shook her head, exhaled, and looked him square in the eyes. She couldn't think about this any more without turning into a wreck in front of him. And she had no intention of doing that.

"Your turn," she told him a little shakily now.

 _Oh, great._  "Oh, you don't want to hear…" He waved his hand, dismissing the subject. She had far more things on her mind than he did.

"Spill it, Ressler," she said, her voice more even now. Concentrating on him was getting her mind off Tom and the baby, and she was fine with that.

_Well, perhaps a different perspective wouldn't hurt..._

He picked up his empty glass, looking at it as he twirled it in his fingers.

"It's Audrey," he said, as if that explained everything, looking at her and then glancing away.

She nodded knowingly. "Still having a problem giving her and Tassles your blessing?" she asked him. Texts came in regularly on his phone from Audrey, she knew that. Which always struck her as amusing, because Ressler had never been that big on texting. Now he was a pro with it.

He looked at her again, putting the glass back down on his desk. His tidy desk, she noted. His desk was always impeccable, while hers; well, it wasn't impeccable.

"Remember the other night when Audrey and I went to dinner and I was going to give her my blessing and move on?"

Keen nodded. It wasn't like she could miss that. He'd talked of very little else the whole time they were working the Alchemist case. When they were undercover sitting at the bar waiting on their suspect, she had seen how conflicted he was with Audrey re-entering his life, yet not really being in his life.

"Well, I started to tell her she was doing the right thing, but then she told me she called off her engagement," he said, stopping to let her take that in.

She looked up at him, a smile forming on her lips. That news was unexpected – but nice.

"She said she can't stop thinking about me, since she saw me in the hospital…" He suddenly blushed at that, and tried to shrug it off. She was watching him, realizing how adorably cute that looked on him. Ressler? Adorably cute? Hardly, she told herself.

He continued, hoping the redness in his face would drop soon. "So she wants us to try again… and I want that too," he added quickly. It wasn't all Audrey's idea.

She looked at him and grinned. "And this is making you…what…sit here and drink alone? Isn't this good news for the two of you…?"

"Yeah, it is. I mean, it's great," he said, struggling with what to say now.  _I'm no good talking about stuff like this._  Relationships were what women discussed. Guys just showed up and went along with everything and said 'yes sweetie' when asked to move furniture.

Keen lifted her eyebrows at him, prompting him to explain. "But...?"

He leaned forward in his chair then, resting on his elbows on the desk, looking at her. "Here's the deal. We were engaged, right? Yeah, you know we were. Anyway, I had accepted that we weren't engaged anymore. It's been over a year and it's in the past. And now…"

She smiled, watching him struggle over his words. Men were hopeless at this!

"And now she's back and it feels good, but then it felt good before and she still left. What if it feels good now and she leaves again," Keen finished for him, understanding completely now what he was struggling with.

Sometimes it was really handy having a profiler for a partner. It helped cut to the chase. "Exactly. That's the thing. We were doing great. Well, I thought we were… And she still left. But then, I do know why she left, it's not like I was completely in the dark…" He stood up then, taking a few steps to stretch out his stiff leg.

She was looking at him, knowing he had to have a king size bruise and welt on his leg from where the van had backed into him in the parking lot today. He continued.

"I spent so much time leading the task force to get Reddington, that in the end I had to choose between my job and spending time with Audrey. So, Red or Audrey… And guess who won," he looked down and sighed.

Just like her and Tom… "Red does have a way of complicating lives, doesn't he…?" She said quietly.

He glanced sideways at her. It took Red years to ruin his life. It had only taken a few months to undermine Keens.

"Welcome to the club, Keen," he said quietly. It wasn't a good 'club' to be in, he knew full well.

She got back on track with him and Audrey again. "But do you want it to work out this time?" she asked him.

He glanced away then, standing with his hands in his pockets. Picturing her walking into his hospital room, he recalled how his heart had leapt at seeing her.  _Of course, that could have been all the meds in my system_. But he had felt …happy… to see her. And he hadn't felt happy for a long time.

"Yeah, I do. But then I did last time too, only this time…"  _This time I'm not chasing Reddington._

"This time there's no hunting for Red," she finished. She had a habit of finishing his sentences and completing his thoughts.  _Is she even aware she does that?_ He was apparently oblivious to the fact he also did that to her at times.

"Oh yeah, because what we have with him now is SO much better," he said dryly.

He looked across at her and suddenly grinned, shaking his head at the way his life was so intertwined with Reddington.  _Okay, maybe enough whiskey for the night._

She smiled broadly at him now, loving seeing him grin. That didn't happen too often and his face had lit up when he did that. She thought again how much better the new Ressler was than the old frowning version.

"Then make it work Ressler. For starters, why are you here and not with her?" She looked at him, almost for the first time from a woman's point of view. He deserved to be happy with Audrey. Like she was…had thought she was…with Tom.

"Oh, she's out of town tonight and tomorrow at her folks. Some pre-arranged event," he said, taking a few more steps to ease the stiffness. That jolt from the van in the parking structure today had hurt his leg more than he'd let on.

"You know I'm happy for you, right? You're a good guy. You deserve a good woman like Audrey."

"You don't know she's a good woman. You've never met her," he told her, smiling.

"Don't need to. I can see how she makes you feel, and you're happier and calmer than I've ever known you, Ressler."

"I guess that's what happens when you get some again," he said, and then suddenly wished he hadn't.  _Okay, too much information._

She grinned at him though. She really was happy for him that he had Audrey back in his life.

He looked serious again. "Kinda scary, though right? Happiness always seems so fleeting…you can lose it at any moment with one wrong move…" He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to. He'd seen it happen too many times.

When he and Audrey had walked from the restaurant arm in arm, it felt wonderful. The year or more they'd been apart just seemed to drop away and they were right back to where they had been when it was all good before. Part of him was determined to hang onto that feeling. The other part of him was terrified to try.

She was watching the conflict in his face. "Then don't make a wrong move," she smiled.

He looked up at her, nodding. "Right. No wrong moves."  _Sure, I can do that. I hope._

He looked at his watch then, surprised to see how late…early… it had got. She did the same, seeing it was 1:30am.

"You heading home?" she asked him.

He shook his head. "Maybe had a few too many whiskeys to drive home without risking a ticket. I think I might just go through some files here then clean up in the locker room a bit later."

She didn't want to go home either. Not because she had drank too much – she'd only had one – but she couldn't face Tom right now.

"Need a hand with those files?" she asked him, and he nodded.

"Sure, I'll go grab them." He left their office now, stopping off at the bathroom before going to grab some case files. The office was all but deserted now. The overhead screens were off and the bullpen was silent. It made a pleasant change to the bustle it became during the day. He stopped off at the lunch room and grabbed them a couple of bottles of water. Yes, it was time to put the whiskey away.

Walking back into their office he dumped the files on his desk and then put a bottle of water on each side of their desks.

"I see Cheers is closed for the night," she smiled, reaching for the water as he sat down across from her. His desk wasn't so impeccable now, she noticed with an inward smile. His shirt sleeves were still rolled up, his tie still loose. His 'working mans look', she noted to herself.

She looked at him as he opened up files, his eyes down as he scanned through them. You're a good man Donald Ressler. And a good friend. She found herself really hoping he wouldn't make a wrong move with Audrey.


	9. Outside the Box

_This scene takes place during Madeline Pratt. (This was not a great episode for me – not enough Ressler!) But there was something we have never got to see that I always thought should have at least been mentioned, and this is the episode I felt it should have been in. So I have wanted to write this for a while now. It takes place right after Reddington has come into the Post Office for the first time since Anslo Garrick._

* * *

Raymond Reddington was in Cooper's office after setting foot in the Post Office for the first time in almost two months. Keen and Malik were also in the Director's office. Ressler hadn't been invited and he was trying not to let that bother him. He had long since got over the whole 'I speak only to Elizabeth Keen' issue. Truth was – Keen could have him. Maybe he just didn't relish being that close to Red to worry about it anymore. Still, he would be lying if he said that seeing them all up in Cooper's office didn't bother him a little.  _Okay, maybe a lot._  He was still part of this team.

He hadn't seen or spoken to Red since they had been in the box together. It had been a long time, and he'd rather enjoyed it. No insults from Reddington. No jabs at how incompetent he was. No quips about banana peels and clumsy agents in bushes. And he certainly hadn't missed being called 'Donald' every five minutes. 'Donald' always sounded like he was in trouble. And where Red was concerned, well, that was usually the case.

So he kept to himself down in the bullpen, trying not to look up at Cooper's office. Well, not too many times anyway. Aram was watching him from his desk. He actually felt a bit sorry for Agent Ressler, being left out like that. He got up from his desk, and headed over to him.

"Agent Ressler, I was just going to get some coffee and I wondered if you would like me to bring you a cup?" Aram offered, almost nervously.

Ressler looked up at him, after being 'engrossed' in a computer screen – anything to avoid looking upstairs. He almost declined out of habit, but then nodded to Aram.

"Sure, thanks."

Aram smiled and quickly headed off to the break room. He appeared a minute later with two foam cups of coffee and headed back to Ressler.

"Here you go, I noticed how you like it, and fixed it that way for you," he said, and placed the coffee in front of Ressler.

He was a little surprised that Aram had taken the time to notice how he drank his coffee. "Thank you," he said, reaching to take a sip.

"No problem." Aram headed back to his desk smiling, feeling like he had just made things a little better in the world.

Ressler had just finished his coffee when he heard voices outside Cooper's office upstairs. He turned away, pretending to go through some paperwork as the group descended to the bullpen.

"Donald! So good to see you up and about!" Red's jovial voice was a few steps behind him.

_And here we go. I'm 'Donald' again._

Ressler turned to him, a retort ready on his lips. But when he looked into Red's grinning face, something unexpected happened. He was actually glad to see the man.  _I'm glad to see Reddington?_ The retort went unspoken and Ressler closed his mouth.

Red had that 'cat got the canary' grin on him that usually irritated Ressler but today it wasn't bothering him as much. Keen was watching the two men out of the corner of her eye, curious to see how Ressler would react; having a feeling he wouldn't be as flippant as he normally was.

Red was now patting the younger man's upper arm, still smiling hugely. "Donald, walk with me," he said, taking a step away and practically leading Ressler by the arm. He motioned with his other hand to Dembe, telling him to stay behind.

Ressler thought about declining Red's 'offer'. But then went with it, allowing Red to lead him from the group. Keen averted her eyes then, hiding the smile as she turned back to Cooper and Malik as the two men left the bullpen area.

 _Where are we going…? Oh…_ Ressler knew where they were going now.

Red was leading him to the place he had avoided since returning to work. He'd told himself he hadn't consciously avoided it, it was just that he really had no reason to go there.  _Right…you know you've tried and couldn't do it._  They were walking along a dimly lit hallway now, the bright lights and screens of the bullpen behind them.

Red was leading him to the box.

_And I'm letting him, apparently._

His thoughts were interrupted. "How's the leg been holding up?" Red asked him.

Ressler was about to give the standard 'It's fine' response, until he looked sideways at Reddington as they walked together. He wasn't turning on the Reddington charm now, and Red's calm eyes regarded him. He was asking because he really wanted to know.

"It's good and bad. Mostly good though." Ressler told him truthfully.

Red suddenly stopped, dropping his hand from Ressler's arm. Ressler also stopped and turned to him as they stood alone, half way down the hallway.  _Why…?_  Red then consciously leaned against the wall, regarding the younger man. _Oh my God, he leaned on the wall right there._

_Right before I got shot._

Unable to stop himself, Ressler's hand flew to his holster as he quickly turned in the direction the bullet had come from. He was almost surprised to see no one there. No gunman. No shouting. No gunfire in the distance. He turned sheepishly back to Red, who was regarding him almost kindly.

"The leg may be mostly good, Donald. But there are still things you need to face."

Ressler looked at him silently.  _How does this man have a handle on EVERYTHING?_

"Oh, you may look fine on the outside. And you may be doing your job perfectly well. But you and I both know there are things about that day you haven't come to terms with."

Ressler stood there, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked up and down the hallway. His blood had been spilled on this floor… _right here_ … The image of Red arming himself, standing above him as he lay bleeding came back to him. He had thought Red was going to put a bullet in his head. That momentary fear had been replaced with surprise… _not to mention agony_ … when Red had dragged him by his collar along this very hallway, telling him they weren't done yet.

_Red had made the decision to save my life as soon as I had been shot…_

Red was watching Ressler, seeing the memories flooding through him. He stood up off the wall then, patted Ressler's shoulder and then continued leading him down the hallway. Each step along the hallway conjured up the memory of that day, and Ressler found himself right back there, being dragged to safety by the criminal. It was eerily quiet now, compared to the chaos it had been.

They stopped again, this time at the first aid cabinet on the wall. Reddington just looked at him, and then smiled.

"Rather conveniently placed for you that day, don't you think?"

It was. Ressler hadn't really thought about that. But looking up and down the hallway, there was no other first aid box. Yet, right where he had needed one that day, there it was.  _Someone up there must like me…_

He pursed his lips, looking at the first aid box, and then looked at the criminal again. "Why are we…?"

"Oh, you're clever Donald, you'll figure it out."

_Okay…but I'm not sure I like this._

They started walking again, the end of the hallway approaching now.  _And beyond that…_ His palms were getting sweaty at the thought of what was sitting silently in the room at the end of the hallway. He subconsciously dropped a couple of steps behind Red then, as if to delay the moment. Before he had time to think about it a second more, the hallway ended and they entered the large room that housed the glass box.

Constructed of high tensile glass and steel, it stood silently in the middle of the room. The room lights were dim, yet the door to the box was wide open, and the lights inside it were on.  _Almost like it's inviting us in…_ Ressler had seen the box plenty of times before. But now it held a whole new meaning. Inside that fortified box, secrets were shared, blood was spilled, and lives were saved. … _guns were held to heads…and legs were set on fire…_  He felt his heart rate quicken at the sight of it.

Ressler was so focused on the box, he walked right into Red when he suddenly stopped in front of him. Startled, he took a step back, looking at the older man now to see why Red had stopped. They were at the keypad for the door, where he had typed in the code.

_Romeo._

Ressler stared at the keypad and felt his chest tighten as Red stood quietly beside him, watching him. The memory of Red lifting him off the floor and propping him up so that he could type the code came flooding back. His hands had been covered in blood –  _my blood_  – last time he'd touched that keypad. His eyes now flew over the keypad, seeing each letter, one at a time, spelling the word in his minds eye.

ROMEO

_How can one small word invoke so much…?!_

He jumped when Red patted his shoulder. Turning, Red led him silently toward the box. Last time he had seen it from this angle, blood had been pouring from his leg as he had staggered toward it on the verge of collapse… He suddenly stopped, and again felt Red's hand on his arm, encouraging him. He moved again then, allowing Red to lead him.

_Why is this so hard…it's just a box…right?!_

They stood at the open doorway now, looking into the starkly lit interior; the cold metal table and chair still there, as silent witnesses to the events of that day.

"And here we are again, Donald."

He looked sideways at Reddington.  _Why are you doing this…?_ But deep down, he knew why. Red knew about demons.  _And he's making me face mine._

Ressler held his breath as they stepped into the box, before standing together under the greenish, white light. Slowly exhaling with a shaking breath, he looked down at the stark, cold table before him. The stainless steel glinted back at him, so pristine now. Not a hint of blood anywhere, yet Ressler was seeing it everywhere in his mind. His gaze went up now, looking at the fluorescent tubes. He'd been looking right up into those lights as he lay dying on the table. Those light tubes were almost the last thing he saw in this world. Tears sprang suddenly to his eyes and he quickly looked away.

The criminal was watching him closely. "It's okay Donald. Sit down here…."

He felt Red's hand touch his arm as he sat down on the cold steel table, looking down at where his head had rested on his folded jacket. His gaze then traveled to the crossbeams on the wall where he'd rested his hand; and where Anslo Garrick had been looking in at him. He closed his eyes momentarily as tears fell, and he quickly wiped them away. He was trembling now and he didn't say a word.

Red sat down on the chair, watching the FBI agent and smiled gently at him. "You survived Donald. You lived through it. You were forever changed by that day. And that's okay. But this box didn't hurt you. This box sheltered you."

Ressler looked down at the floor, tears rolling unchecked down his cheeks now as Red sat across from him. He didn't understand this emotional reaction to being in the box again.  _What the hell is wrong with me? It's just a glass box!_  But apparently Red had known he would react this way. Red had saved his life in this box. And he couldn't even thank him. The words wouldn't come through his silent tears that he suddenly couldn't stop.

Red was leaning forward in the chair, speaking quietly to Ressler. He knew this was hard on the agent. But it needed to be done for him to move on from this.

"Things happened in here that I regret having had to do, Donald. But I would do them again in a heartbeat, to get the same result," he said softly.

Ressler glanced up at Red then, realizing in that moment that Red had never had any intention of shooting him that day. He had done it to make him focus. To help him do what both of them needed him to do. They had been on the same page all along, invested in saving Keen's life.  _Did he know I forgot the code?_  Regardless, what Red had done had made him remember. The gun to his head had been the difference between Keen living and Keen dying. He nodded to Red, before dropping his gaze to the floor again. He understood now.

"But other things, I will never regret. Saving your life was well worth it, even though it was excruciating for you," he could see Ressler's tears dripping on the floor now.

Looking around the box, Red waved his hand to encompass it. "Donald, this….this is just glass and metal. This is just a container. What you took from that day is in here," he said, tapping his index finger on Ressler's chest, causing his eyes to flicker up to look at Red.

"That will stay with you always. You will be…you are…changed now. And what you choose to do with that change is all before you now." Ressler look at Red, nodding, understanding more now.

Red patted Ressler on the upper arm. "You're going to be okay, my friend."

' _Friend'… He's called me that before…_

Ressler had finally got his tears under control, but his voice sounded thick to his ears. "You were there…in the hospital…"

Red smiled knowingly at him, nodding slightly, but didn't say a word.

 _I remember now…_  He had been coming out of the surgery fog, in a dark place, walking toward the light when he'd heard similar words from Red. Practically the entire FBI had been looking for Red yet he had taken time to check on him in the hospital.

_The man never ceases to amaze me._

"I…you're right, I'm not the same. Keen has told me that a few times." He was finally finding his voice again, as he wiped the last trace of his tears away. To hold anything back from Reddington now seemed pointless. There were no secrets between them anymore, it seemed. The man had held his bleeding flesh in his hands.

_And my gun to my head._

"It's impossible to go through something like this and not be different. Just accept the changes in you, be they good or bad, and know that you earned that change."

"Well, Keen tells me they're good changes." His voice was stronger and he shrugged now, smiling a little at that and unsure why he was even talking about this with Red.

Red smiled at him, nodding. He already knew that. A blind man could see the positive change in Ressler.

"I'm glad. You've been through a lot, and your recovery has been difficult. You have friends, and people who care about what happens to you. Never forget that, Donald." Ressler suddenly remembered Aram getting him a cup of coffee.

_Actually, what was different was that I let him._

Ressler looked at Reddington now, trying to picture the man in front of him as the man he had pursued for so long. If someone would have told him a few years ago they would end up …like this…he never would have believed them.

"I know… Thank you…"

"Oh, you don't need to thank me Donald. Just enjoy your life, and spend time with that lovely lady of yours. Don't let the past get in the way of your future with Audrey." Red smiled broadly at the younger man now.

"You sent her back to me, didn't you?"

He again looked knowingly at Ressler, his eyes sparkling as he grinned. He didn't need to say a word.

"Hold on to her Donald. She's a keeper."

He glanced away, seeing Audrey telling him she had called off her engagement to Tassles. Seeing the two of them that night, alone in the dark in bed, lying close to each other as they had talked softly into the small hours of the morning.

"Yes she is," he said, meeting Red's eyes now, silently thanking the man again.

_As long as I don't make a wrong move…_

He looked up at the lights one more time - the lights that weren't the last thing he ever saw - and then stood up. Red got up from the chair and they looked around the box together. Red regarded the agent, and could see he was going to be fine.

"We should meet here once a year to celebrate, Donald. I'll bring the Beluga Caviar and wine. We'll invite Lizzie. Shame Anslo won't be joining us though," Red chuckled.

And despite himself, Ressler laughed. He actually laughed with the criminal he'd been chasing for years. The criminal that had taken away so much from him, yet had also given it back in spades. Red laughed along with him and then did something that he had done in Munich the morning of the incursion. He reached out and hugged Ressler, clapped him on the back, and then stood back from him, smiling.

And Ressler let him.

"Well, this was fun. We should do this more often," he said, and stepped out of the box.

Ressler followed him out, then turned and took one more look at the box - seeing it for what it was - it was just a glass and steel container. They walked in silence up the hallway this time, not stopping at the keypad, or the first aid cabinet, or the place where Ressler had got shot.

_I'm not sure what just happened. But I feel a million pounds lighter…_

As they came out of the hallway back into the bullpen walking side by side, they both saw Keen look over at them. She walked over to the two men, noticing how 'in sync' they seemed to be.

"Lizzie my dear, let me get Aram up to speed here so I can brief everyone on Madeline Pratt, before Harold has a coronary."

Red then clapped Ressler on the shoulder, concluding their business before he walked toward Aram without a backward glance to Ressler.

Keen looked curiously up at Ressler as she stood beside him. His eyes were a little pink…had he been crying…? He looked quite calm though. What on earth did Red say to him?

He glanced down at her. Keen had told him she was a good listener whenever he was ready to revisit his time in the box. He hadn't been ready then, but had thought she would likely be the one he'd eventually talk to. But it had been Red he had needed to talk to all along.

 _And I didn't know that._   _But Red did._

He shook his head then and suddenly grinned at her as she looked up at him questioningly. "Don't ask, Keen. It's better that way." He patted her arm and then went over to the other side of the bullpen to prepare for Red's briefing.

_Time to get back to work._


	10. Thief Among Us

_This is taken from Madeline Pratt, and I wrote this at the request of rebbecabraxton – who asked me to do a conversation between Ressler and Liz regarding her criminal past. I kinda felt that had been covered on the show, so I was hesitant to make something up about Keen's past. But hey, since there is ALWAYS room for expanding a scene - this short one is for you, Rebbeca!_

* * *

Reddington had just informed them they had an Ace of Spades among them.

 _What…?_  Ressler was more than a little thrown by that revelation.  _She's a criminal…?_  As soon as the briefing broke up, which wasn't long after that bombshell, Cooper, Ressler and Keen met at the bottom of the stairs.

"Your father's criminal record didn't show up on your background report." Ressler hesitated, not really sure he wanted to get into this discussion. "Maybe yours is missing too."

Keen looked up at him. "I don't have a criminal record."

_Well, of course she would say that._

Cooper was standing right there with them. Ressler needed to continue questioning her. "Because you never committed a crime or because you were never caught?"

"Yes."

_What? That's not an answer!_

She looked at Cooper. "I believe my work speaks for itself."

Ressler stood by as Cooper told Keen they would take the case. He didn't like this. Just when he had thought he could trust her, this curveball had come out of left field.  _I don't like surprises, Keen._

And now Cooper was telling her she would be on foreign soil and out of their protection if something went wrong.  _Just great…_  He had a bad feeling about this.

As Cooper left them, Keen followed the Director with her eyes as he went up the stairs. She could feel Ressler's eyes burning into her. Looking at him now, she didn't like what she saw in his eyes.

"So which is it – you never committed a crime, or you were never caught?" His voice was controlled and even, which to Keen sounded almost worse than if he'd been angry at her.

She bit the bottom of her lip as he stared at her. Realizing what she was doing, she stopped biting her lip and looked quickly around the bullpen. She walked away from the foot of the stairs to stand under them, and Ressler stepped back out of sight, following her.

He stood silently in front of her and she suddenly felt like she was wilting under the weight of his gaze. "Look…I don't have a criminal record, okay?" she repeated, not as confidently this time.

Ressler was finding himself in unfamiliar territory - he didn't believe her.

She couldn't take him boring into her with his eyes like that. He deserved an explanation, yet she couldn't give him one. Not about this.

"Ressler, please don't look at me like that," she asked him, leaning her head to the side and pleading with her eyes, wanting to say something that would ease his sudden distrust. She needed him to trust her. Needed him to be on her side.

"What was Red referring to?" he asked her, his voice low as he leaned closer to her.

She searched his eyes, "If I could tell you, I would."

He exhaled in frustration. "You CAN tell me."

"I don't have a criminal record…" She repeated again, knowing she wasn't answering his question, but unable to say any more than that singular truth.

He suddenly clenched his teeth, shook his head and turned away from her.  _She's not going to tell me._  He strode away from her then, not wanting to look at her anymore. The worst part was he didn't really know why he was making such a big deal about it.  _If Cooper is fine with it, why aren't I?_

"Ressler!" she called out as he strode away.

He ignored her and kept walking toward the elevator, not wanting to return to the bullpen right now.  _I need some air._

Punching the button on the elevator, the door opened and he quickly entered. He pushed the buttons to close the door, but was too late. She skidded into the elevator right before the door closed.

He didn't look at her. Clenching his teeth, he looked straight ahead as the elevator rose.

"You know, you're awfully cute when you're angry," she said, playing a wild card to break the tension.

His eyes dropped to the floor.  _Keen…_

"I'm not angry," he said softly.  _Well, not entirely._

"Really? Then what…?" At least he was talking to her.

The elevator arrived at the surface and the door opened to the parking lot. He quickly stepped out, bypassing her. She followed him, immediately noticing how cold it was up here and neither of them were wearing coats.

"I'm… concerned," he told her as she walked a step behind him.

"You're concerned that you can't trust me."

As usual, she had nailed it. "Yes."

He was walking beside the wall of the parking lot. Not really going anywhere but unable to stand still. Walking with him, she then outpaced him and stood in front of him, causing him to stop abruptly.

"I meant what I said to Cooper. My work speaks for itself. Yes, there are things in my past I don't know about, and other things that I am not proud of. None of those things are relevant to who I am today." Her breath condensed in the cold air as she spoke.

He was looking into her eyes as she spoke, standing so close to her that they were almost touching. But he didn't step back. Nor did she.

He glanced to the side, hesitated and then met her eyes again. "I need to be able to trust you, and this didn't instill confidence in me."

"You can trust me, Ressler," she said softly, so close to him that she could feel the steam from his breath. It really was cold up here in the parking lot. "I've got your back. I've always had your back."

His blue eyes held hers before he dropped his gaze, nodding. "I… I know that." And he did know that.  _Then why the hell didn't I remember that five minutes ago?_

"What is this really about…?" There was more going on here than he was letting on.

She didn't think he was going to answer at first. Looking downward, he finally shook his head and sighed. "It's nothing…I've just had a… a really weird day, Keen." He looked at her then, smiling ruefully.

He and Reddington had walked off together prior to the Madeline Pratt briefing. She didn't know what had occurred while they'd been gone but when they returned she had seen he'd been in tears at some point.

"It's like things aren't the way they're supposed to be anymore. Criminals are more trusting, and partners are…well…" he looked into her eyes and shrugged.

She was well aware which criminal he was referring to. "Let me put your mind at ease. I'm not sure Reddington is someone you should trust," she smiled.

He felt the tension lift in him then. "Right. Don't trust Red, and partners are always trusting. Got it." He was feeling rather foolish, knowing he had over reacted.  _And I don't really know why._

They were still standing very close together, neither of them worried about it enough to move apart.

"It's cold up here, Ressler. Can we please go back down now?"

He smiled sheepishly and nodded his head. "Yeah, I think I'm done being a prima donna."

"Well, you have the hair for it." And she laughed with him then as he blushed slightly.

They were shivering now, definitely ready to get back inside. Turning, they walked back to the elevator together, glad to be out of the cold once they stepped inside it. As they were descending in the yellow box he looked over at her.

"You told me the other night that any time I wanted to discuss my time in the box with you, you'd listen."

She nodded, having a feeling he probably didn't need to discuss that with her anymore though, not after his visit with Red earlier.

"So, any time you feel you want to talk to me about…anything…I'll listen to you too," he told her softly.

She knew what 'anything' was. He was leaving it to her to mention her past if and when she was ready to. Maybe one day she would be able to have that discussion with him.

"Thank you," she smiled, thankful to have him back in her corner again.

As they stepped out of the elevator, glad to be back in the warm, they saw Reddington walking toward them. He had seen Ressler walking away and Keen following him earlier, and had been waiting for them to return. When he saw the two of them together he smiled. They seemed to have resolved their little spat.

This was good, because now he needed to take their little Ace of Spades to Madi to steal a priceless effigy. He wondered how Donald was going to feel about that.


	11. One Wrong Move

_So I finally reached Mako Tanida, the ultimate Ressler episode! He is SO torn, so heartbroken and so driven for revenge that we got to see a whole new Ressler – and I fell for him even more! So here it is. It's a prequel to my story "Losing It All", the first Blacklist fanfic I wrote. There is SO much to this episode, that I already wrote 4 chapters on it!_

* * *

If Audrey Bidwell had known she had four minutes to live, her final moments on this earth would have been spent very differently. She would have called her parents, and would have clung to the phone, desperately bidding her farewells to them, knowing there was nowhere near enough time to say everything that needed to be said.

She would have left no doubt in Don's mind of how happy she was to be back with him. She would have ensured he knew that his capacity to love her unconditionally had completed her. She would have made sure he knew she was looking forward to their future together as his wife. And most of all, she would have shared that she was late this month, making her pretty sure they were going to be parents. She would have seen shock, surprise, and then that beautiful smile of his as he took in that wonderful news.

But Audrey was unaware that her time left on this earth was now being counted in seconds. She didn't know that the universe that had aligned so perfectly to bring her back to Don was about to play the cruelest trick of all and wrench her away from him. So instead, her final moments with Don were spent in fearful concern for his well being – for their well being – as their vehicle was rammed by another.

She was terrified as she saw Don fight for control of the wheel as the vehicle careened recklessly to the side of the road. Shots rang out, shattering the window. She heard the panic for her in his voice as he looked quickly at her to see if she was okay. "Stay down! Stay down!" he yelled. As the vehicle lurched alarmingly again, her head slammed into the window. Black spots appeared in her vision, as searing pain now fired in the back of her head. Dazed, she reached out for the safety of Don's arm as the vehicle ground to a halt, but he was suddenly gone, running from the vehicle. He had left her!

"Don…" she cried out weakly, needing him desperately. Barely aware of her surroundings, she stumbled from the vehicle, almost falling to the ground. Her vision was blurred, but she could still make out where he was. Staggering toward him, she was unable to call his name loud enough for him to hear. Almost collapsing with the pounding in her head, she slowly made her way toward him. As her vision cleared a little, she could make out that he was struggling with someone. She didn't see the gun that was aiming in her direction.

A gunshot filled the air, startling her as the echo ricocheted around her. Her belly was suddenly on fire as something slammed into her. White hot pain filled the center of her being, and she looked down, wide eyed at the growing red stain in her middle. No longer able to stand up, her legs buckled under her as she hit the ground hard.

The shot that was about to end her life was fired inches from Ressler's ear, deafening him. He was looking into Mako Tanida's eyes as he had fired, seeing that he was focused on something – someone – behind him. Horror suddenly filled him, knowing who he had left moments ago behind him. Turning swiftly, his worst fears were confirmed as he saw Audrey fall to the ground, bloodied and hurt.

"Audrey!" his strangled cry reached her. Charging toward her, Tanida now forgotten, he dropped to his knees at her side.

_No! Oh, God! No!_

Sweeping her into his arms, his heart hammered in his chest as he begged her to be okay.  _No, Audrey!_

"I got you, I got you sweets! Come on, come on, come on…"

Blood was pouring from her stomach as he held his hands over the wound, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. She was crying out in pain as he tried to get her to keep her hands over the wound.  _Sweetie! No!_  Hot tears sprang to his eyes, as he looked at her helplessly. His breath heaving, he frantically grabbed at her scarf, ramming it into the wound. He held her face in his hands as she closed her eyes and called his name.

"Look at me! Come on!"  _Stay with me!_

His tears spilled onto her face now, as his hand caressed her cheek, needing her to keep fighting. As the life drained from her, she held desperately onto his eyes, knowing now that her beautiful man was going to be the last thing she ever saw. And if her time had to be up, she was thankful to be with him right at the end. His strong arms were around her as she managed to smile weakly at him, wanting him to know – needing him to know – that she was so sorry to do this to him. His tearful blue eyes were inches from hers, as he pleaded with her to hold on. Don't cry baby, please don't cry, she begged him inwardly. She wanted to brush his tears away, but was unable to move her arm anymore, as his desperate pleas filled her ears. "Come on Audrey, stay with me…"

' _I love you, Don'_  was the last thing she ever thought, needing him to know but unable to tell him. She held onto his gaze as long as she could, until the spark left her eyes and she breathed her last.

Horrified, Ressler hugged her close to him, unable to feel her heart beating anymore. She was gone.  _She's gone! God, no!_

A police car ground to a halt in front of him, sirens blaring and lights flashing. He was scarcely even aware of it.

He could barely breathe. Feeling his chest constrict and his heart rate skyrocket, his head fell back as he opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came.  _NO! NO!_ He rocked her in his arms, his eyes shut tight now as his head dropped to her, hugging her tightly into his neck. Tears streamed down his face, breaking through his closed eyelids. She was still warm in his arms, her cheek still warm on his neck as he willed her to come back to him.

A police officer ran to him. "Sir! Are you hurt?"

Ressler wasn't even aware the man was speaking to him.

"Sir?" The police officer kneeled down, checking the man hurriedly with his eyes, not seeing any obvious wounds.

"Sir, what happened here?" He reached out to touch the woman now, feeling her neck as the man cradled her against him. No pulse. The woman was dead. His partner came up to him then and the officer rose to his feet, still looking at the distraught man holding the woman.

"One deceased in the pickup over there. I've called it in to the Coroner."

"The woman is dead too…" His partner replied quietly, as if saying it aloud would upset the sobbing man even more.

Ressler was aware they were there now, but couldn't acknowledge them.  _Come on sweetie, come on!_ His bloody hands caressed her cheek as he leaned over her. Hot tears dripping onto her face, he kissed her forehead, whispering to her, "sweetie, no…" "please…no…" as he softly begged her to come back to him. She looked like she was sleeping. But he knew she would never wake up from this.

More police cars arrived, their blue and red lights flashing in the morning light. An ambulance was nearby, but no one needed one. There were no hurt people. Only the dead. A dead man in the back of an abandoned vehicle. And a dead woman being held by a distraught man, still sitting on the road where she had died.

The Coroner's van pulled up now, making its way slowly through the police cars to stop as close to the bodies as it could.

Another police officer leaned down to him. "Sir, can you give us your name?"

Ressler gazed into Audrey's face, stroking her hair. His head felt like it was going to explode, and his heart was about to jump out his chest. His throat was so tight he couldn't even speak. He ignored the officer.

_Just leave me alone!_

The police officer asked for his identity again. "Sir, we need your name."

_Get the hell away from me!_

Ressler kept his head down, cradling Audrey, unable to take his eyes off her.

"Sir, the Coroner is going to need to take her soon," the police officer explained, seeing the Coroner approach.

_No! Don't you dare!_

The police officer tried again. "We have to take her, Sir."

_Will you get the hell away from me?!_

"Let me try and talk to him," said the Coroner, who had been on scene for a couple of minutes watching the poor guy cradling the woman. The police officer nodded to the Coroner and moved away.

In his mid fifties, the coroner had seen this before. It was perhaps the hardest part of his job. The coroner kneeled down to the man then, as his knees groaned, not liking taking his weight on the hard road surface. He looked at the distraught man before him. Mid thirties, short military style haircut, he noted. Maybe even law enforcement. But it was the man's emotions he was focused on. It was nothing new to him. Dealing with the dead back in autopsy was safe. Being out in the field with the raw emotion of people who had just had their loved ones wrenched from them was always heart breaking. No matter how many times he saw it, those were the nights he went home to his wife and held her a little longer.

"Sir, my name is Dr Joseph Walker – you can call me Joe. I'm the District Coroner. Can you tell me your name?"

Ressler didn't look at the man as he sat there holding Audrey.

_Can't you all just leave me alone?!_

He was inwardly begging that this was all a bad dream and he'd wake up soon.  _Please. Don't let it be real!_

"Sir, can you tell me the young lady's name?" Joe asked him gently.

Ressler looked into her closed eyes.  _Her name is Audrey. My Audrey…_  He left streaks of blood in her hair as he gently stroked it, holding her close against him.

The coroner, Joe, was speaking gently to him in a tone that Ressler started to listen to. "Sir, is she your wife?"

 _She would have been!_  His face crumbled as fresh tears fell. Ressler shook his head, acknowledging someone near him for the first time. The coroner nodded, knowing he'd reached the distraught young man now.

"Who is she, what is her name?" He knew not to refer to the dead woman in the past tense. Not yet.

Ressler looked up at the coroner, his eyes blood red and stinging. "Audrey…" He choked out, before dropping his gaze and running his hand down Audrey's arm again, holding her on his lap.

Joe motioned to his assistant to stay back as he saw him unloading the gurney. "Okay sir, there are things we need to do for Audrey. Would you let us take her so we can do them for her?" Joe asked him kindly now.

_No! You can't take her!_

Ressler shook his head, not looking at the coroner, kissing Audrey's forehead again. Her skin was no longer warm and he couldn't bear that. Rubbing her cheek, he tried to warm her up. "Sweetie…you're getting cold…" he whispered, his tears falling on her cheeks.

Joe was still kneeling down beside the man and Audrey. He tried again to find out who the distressed man was.

"Sir, what does Audrey call you? What is your name…?" He was still keeping Audrey in the present tense for the sake of the young man.

"She calls me Don…" He sobbed, hearing her voice in his head, realizing the last word she had ever spoken was his own name. He broke down anew at that, rocking her gently as he held her.

_Audrey! I'm sorry!_

Joe looked at the young man – Don – thankful he finally had their names. Don and Audrey. They looked like a sweet couple, he thought, and his heart broke for this young man who had just lost his lady.

Joe put his hand on Don's back then, needing to get Audrey from him and into the van. "Don, will you let us take care of Audrey for you now?"

Ressler shook his head, refusing to let the Coroner take her.  _No…no…_

"We can't leave her out in the street like this," Joe said gently, leaning closer to the young man.

Ressler's heart was hammering in his chest as his world crumbled around him. "Sweetie…" he whispered to her, rocking her as he sobbed, his tears spilling down her hair.

"I promise you we'll take good care of her, Don…" Joe told him gently.

Ressler did want her taken care of...  _but that would mean I'd have to let her go... No..._

"We don't want to leave her out here in the open, do we? Let's get her inside, Don," Joe prompted gently.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, finally relenting and nodded to the coroner. She lay in his arms for the last time, and he looked up and down her body, wanting to remember every inch of her. Looking into her face again he whispered shakily to her, "I need to let this man take you, sweetie…"

He glanced up at Joe then, kneeling quietly beside him, then dropped his eyes to Audrey again. "He's a good man, sweetie…" And he kissed her forehead for the last time, feeling her skin that was already growing cold under his lips.

Joe patted Ressler on the back, motioning to his assistant to bring the gurney now. "Good job, Don…I know this is extremely difficult for you. Would you like to help me put her on the gurney?"

Ressler nodded, needing to do that for Audrey as he gave her up to this kind man. He folded his legs under him, preparing to stand up. His legs were stiff from sitting on the ground for so long. Joe moved around and took Audrey's legs, and between them they lifted her gently up to the gurney. Her blood saturated scarf dropped down and Ressler gasped as he gently picked it up, laying it on her now. He stroked her hair as she lay lifeless before him.

_Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife…..? Oh God, Audrey!_

He closed his eyes and looked down, leaning his hand on the gurney for support.

Joe came and stood beside him then, noticing the FBI badge hanging from the young man's belt now. He had thought maybe the guy was a cop or detective, and he'd been right. He looked at the badge, seeing Don's full name now. 'Special Agent Donald P. Ressler'.

Stepping back, they moved out the way as Joe's assistant came around to their side. Ressler watched as he strapped her ...body... onto the gurney now.

"Don, do you have someone you can call to come get you?" asked Joe.

Ressler nodded, knowing he needed to call Cooper. He was watching them secure Audrey and they had the blanket over her now. His breath hitched and he looked away as they covered her face with the blanket, hiding her from his view now.

Joe was watching him, and gently touched Ressler on the arm. "I can call someone for you, if you like." That wasn't protocol, but what the heck, this guy was a Fed and he needed someone to help him right now.

Silently thanking Joe, Ressler reached into his coat pocket for his phone, found Cooper's number and handed his phone to the coroner. He knew he couldn't speak to Cooper right now. Tears were still slowly rolling down his cheeks as he looked at Audrey under the blanket on the gurney.

Joe made the call, explaining who he was to Cooper and where they were located. He looked at Ressler as he spoke.

"Sir, I would suggest you send a car to pick up Agent Ressler. He is in no state to be driving right now."

Joe finished talking with Cooper, hung up and handed Ressler his phone. He stood there a moment, really not wanting to leave Don by himself. He looked at the officers near him and motioned to a young woman officer. She looked at Ressler kindly as she approached them. They had all seen him sobbing over his dead lady.

"Don, this officer will wait with you while your boss sends someone to pick you up," he said kindly, looking at the FBI agent who was standing quietly now, his tears slowing, though his breathing was still hitching. He reached into his pocket and handed Ressler his card.

"This is my number. This is where we are taking Audrey. You call me if you need anything, okay?"

Ressler took the card, barely looking at it but holding onto it. Reaching into his inside coat pocket, he retrieved his own card and handed it to the coroner. They could talk later about her full name and identification but not right now.

"You'll take good care of her?" he asked shakily, and the coroner nodded.

"I will. I promise you that, Don." He then motioned for his assistant to load the gurney into the van.

Ressler tried to say 'thank you' but his throat had closed again at the sight of her being wheeled away from him. He nodded to Joe instead, reaching up to rub his temples with his fingertips. Audrey's blood was dry on his hands now and he held them out in front of him.

_Her blood is literally on my hands! She's dead because of me!_

Joe was watching him, feeling so bad for him. "You take care of yourself. I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances." He patted Ressler's back, and then headed over to the van, climbing in the passenger side.

Ressler stood on the road with the female officer beside him, watching Audrey being driven away from him.  _Happiness is so fleeting…_  His words came back to him. He dropped his face into his hand then, hiding his eyes as he begged Audrey for forgiveness.

_I'm sorry sweetie! I tried so hard, but I couldn't keep you safe!_

Red had told him to hold onto her, that she was a keeper. But he had failed. He had made one wrong move and it had all come crashing down.

Turning away from the officer he walked slowly over to his vehicle, ignoring the police officers milling around him. His body didn't want to work right. It was an effort to move his legs, his chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it and his eyes throbbed hotly. The female officer followed him. The coroner had told her to stay with the guy, so she did. She had only been on the job 6 weeks, and had seen things she never thought she'd see. All manner of death. But seeing this FBI agent as he had held onto his dead lady while they tried to take her from him had been heartbreaking.

He had intended to sit in the vehicle while he waited, but as he stood at the vehicle he felt something stir inside him. Below the surface, hidden under the shock and disbelief that he had just lost Audrey, a slow burn was starting. Clenching his teeth, his bloodshot eyes returned to where he had fought with Tanida before he had fired at Audrey. Tanida had deliberately fired at her. It hadn't been an accident.

_I lost her… No, I didn't lose her. She was taken from me. Mako Tanida took her from me._

There might be something in Tanida's truck that could tell him where the man was located. Willing his legs to move, he headed for the abandoned pick up, his head pounding as he walked. He stopped suddenly at the sight of Audrey's blood on the road. His knees were going to buckle if he kept looking at that. He gasped, clamped his eyes shut and willed himself to breathe. With an effort he took a few more steps so that her blood was out of sight and kept on going.

Approaching the open door of the vehicle, he looked inside. Rifling through the glove box and checking between the seats, he found nothing with an address or name on it that could help though.

He couldn't look anymore. His head was swimming and all he could see was blood. Audrey's blood, all over her and, he noticed now, all over his shirt front. He turned from Tanida's truck, and leaned heavily on it, trying to catch his breath. Shutting his eyes, he slowly dropped to his knees again, suddenly unable to stand as a wave of dizziness hit him. His stomach lurched and he leaned forward, vomiting near the front of the truck. His head was about to explode.

He felt a hesitant hand on his shoulder as someone squatted beside him then and heard someone speaking to him. It was the young female officer.

"Agent Ressler…are you okay…?" she asked.

 _Am I okay? Seriously?_  But she didn't need to hear that.

"I'm fine…" he said shakily. The dizziness was easing and he opened his eyes. He started to stand and she reached out and helped him up. Standing beside her on the road with police milling around him, he looked at her, really seeing her for the first time. She was a rookie.  _Like Keen…_ he suddenly thought.

"What is your name…?" he asked her, unable to read her name tag with his throbbing headache.

"Emily Lopez, sir," she replied, a little embarrassed.

He regarded her with his bloodshot eyes, and nodded. "Thank you Emily." She smiled at him then, glad to have helped this poor guy in some small way.

He was still looking at Tanida's vehicle, that gnawing burn continuing to grow inside of him, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Agent Ressler…Don…let's get you out of here…"

It was Cooper.

He hadn't sent a car. He hadn't asked for a driver. After hanging up from the Coroner, he didn't hesitate. He grabbed his keys and went to help his lead agent himself.

Ressler nodded to his boss, glanced at Emily again, silently thanking her once more and slowly followed Cooper to the waiting vehicle. As they approached Audrey's blood on the roadway again, he closed his eyes and walked blindly by it, knowing he would crumble if he saw it again.

He couldn't afford to crumble anymore. Because the slow burn that had started a little while ago was intensifying. It was something he was not familiar with and it had taken him a while to recognize what it was. Audrey had been taken from him and the man responsible for taking her was still out there. And he needed to find that man and…take care of the matter…

What he was feeling was the need for revenge.


	12. See You Tomorrow

_This is from Ivan, (which I didn't think was such a great episode!) I did like the fact Ressler was having trouble concentrating on the job, even if I was surprised they didn't address the whole 'going rogue' situation. Cooper would definitely have done that (maybe I should!) So this takes place near the end of the episode, where Liz asks Ressler if he's hungry, offering him dinner with her and Tom._

* * *

Only a week after Audrey had died in his arms, Ressler was back at work. Whether it was too soon or not didn't really play into it. He had needed to be back to keep his mind focused – and for the most part, it had worked. Just not as well as he'd hoped for. Try as he might, his mind kept returning to Audrey bleeding to death in his arms. To Jonica. To the snow. To Mako Tanida's head in a box – and to an unused pregnancy test. When those thoughts surfaced, once again he'd force himself to refocus on those around him and stick to the task at hand, only half succeeding.

It was precisely because he was only half concentrating on the job that he hadn't even put up a protest when Liz and Meera went off to the subway station to stop Harrison Lee. Normally, he would have been front and centre, right in the thick of it. Common sense told him that in a situation with a kid, even a high school kid, the two women were better suited for this right now. So he had taken a different position this evening by staying back at the post office watching the action on the monitors. That certainly hadn't been easy. Unable to know precisely what was happening and relying on spotty satellite phones in a blacked out city was not the best situation – and that was putting it mildly.

When Keen had been on a train hurtling along a track that was rapidly disappearing, he had felt a low grade panic rising in his chest.  _People die every day. In my arms._  He pressed the thought down as much as he could, but found himself slowly backing away from the monitors. Cooper had asked if the train had crashed. Ressler had been unable to ask it - suddenly unable to make his mouth work.  _Liz could die too..._

The relief when Malik had informed them the train hadn't crashed and everyone was okay was palpable. But he still hadn't realized how much he had been holding his breath in apprehension until the elevator doors opened and out stepped Keen, Meera and Abby Fisher. Clenching his teeth a little, he looked down, swallowing hard. When he looked up and saw Fisher hugging his daughter, a wave of emotion hit him. Loved ones hugging.  _My loved one will never be hugged again..._

Keen walked toward him, coming to stand beside him. He noticed her face had been cut in a couple of places, but she was all in one piece, thankfully.

"Good work," he told her. There was so much more he wanted to say. So much more that those two words implied. But that was all he could muster for now.

She could see him struggling for words, knowing an entire unspoken conversation was taking place between them. Mainly for the benefit of those around her, she awkwardly replied, "Yeah, you too."

She knew he had been going through the motions throughout their day to get his work done. Painfully aware of his distraction, the looks away and the thoughts drifting elsewhere all day, she had resisted the urge to talk to him about it in depth. After asking at the car impound why he was back, he hadn't really wanted to talk. Perhaps that was because Aram was right there too though.

While he was correct that the job was keeping his mind off Audrey, she also knew that was only part of what he was struggling with. In the immediate aftermath of her death, he had lost himself and had sought vengeance, almost killing a man in cold blood. It was going to take him time to re-establish who he was. Where he stood with things now.

Having almost died at the hands of Anslo Garrick and then having Audrey subsequently coming back into his life had changed him for the better. Losing Audrey and what had happened in the snow afterward was going to change him all over again, Liz knew that. And she would be there for him.

She watched him turn away, getting his coat from the back of the chair. Their work day over, he was getting ready to leave.

"Hey, you hungry?"

He turned to look at her silently, his coat over his arm.

"Tom's cooking tonight, so that means there'll be a ton of extra food." She tried to make light of it, tried to make out that Ressler would be doing her a favor if he came to dinner.

He knew what she was doing and she didn't need to. "Thanks, but I think I'll just head home," he replied, giving her one of his half smiles.

"You sure…?" she asked hesitantly, her blue eyes searching his face.

Turning to face her, he really did appreciate what she was doing. But he couldn't do it. Couldn't be a… third wheel…

"Liz, you have someone waiting for you at home. You don't have to feel bad about that," he smiled ruefully at her.

But she did.

"See you tomorrow," he added, dropping his eyes and walking by her toward the elevator.

"See you tomorrow…" she echoed as he walked past her, leaving her looking worriedly at him as he left.

As he approached the elevator, his work day officially done – his first day back since Audrey had died – his spirits started to drop. If work kept his mind off Audrey (for the most part), then home kept her at the forefront of his thoughts. And now he was leaving the post office, ready to head home from work for the first time without her there. And he really didn't want to do it.

Pressing the button for the elevator, the door opened and he reluctantly stepped inside. As he turned to face the bullpen, he looked up - right into Keen's eyes as she watched him from where he'd left her standing. He didn't drop his gaze and only the closing of the elevator door interrupted his view of her.

Keen couldn't draw her eyes away from him as he walked away from her. Did she imagine his shoulders sagging the closer he got to the elevator? Inwardly wishing he'd accepted her invitation to dinner, she understood why he hadn't. It was too… personal… Too much for him right now. She was still watching him when he turned in the elevator and looked right at her. Her heart ached for him. The door closed and he was gone from her sight as the elevator took him up to the parking lot above.

Up in the parking garage, Ressler stepped out of the elevator, stopping briefly to put his coat on and then walked over to his vehicle. Climbing in, he put the keys in the ignition – and found he couldn't go any further. His hand poised over the key, he sat still, his thoughts taking over. With no need to hold them at bay now, they bombarded him. But they were a part of him now and he let them come.

Down in the bullpen, Keen turned away from the elevator and headed over to Aram. As she returned the satellite phone to him, realizing it was still in her coat pocket, he looked up at her and smiled.

"I'm glad to see you're okay, Liz. That train was…very scary... I'm very glad it was able to stop in time," he said, looking at her with relief.

He looked tired, she thought. She smiled at him and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, me too." For a moment, she had wondered if it was lights out for her, but she had come through it fine.

"Is... is Agent Ressler going to be okay?" he suddenly asked her. She certainly wasn't the only one who had noticed Ressler today.

She wanted to say 'sure'. She wanted to say 'of course'.

"I hope so, Aram. I really hope so..." and he nodded in agreement with her, looking worried.

She looked at the time, knowing Tom would be home soon. "Well, time to head out of here, so I'll see you tomorrow, Aram."

He smiled at her. "See you tomorrow, Liz."

Turning away from him, she walked into her shared office and grabbed her purse from her desk drawer. She passed Cooper while heading to the elevator and he nodded to her as he was also getting ready to leave and escort Fisher and his daughter from the premises.

The elevator was empty as Liz rose to the surface, reminding her again of how Ressler had looked as he left. As she walked out into the parking lot and over to her vehicle, she saw Ressler sitting in his vehicle that was parked a couple of cars down from hers. More than a little concerned she approached him, surprised he hadn't left yet. He didn't even acknowledge her as she went up to the driver side window, just sat there looking slightly down and toward the centre of the dashboard. She gently rapped her knuckles on the window, startling him.

He quickly looked at her and then fumbled with the window before it slid down between them.

"You okay…?" she asked him worriedly, leaning on the door close to him.

For a moment he looked at her in surprise, then suddenly looked embarrassed and nodded, "Yeah, just…just thinking," he shrugged then, looking downward again.

She watched him, wondering if he should actually be driving, as distracted as he was.

"Difficult day for you, I know... The first of many, I'm sure..." she said softly.

He nodded, then looked up at her and half smiled. "But it's fine Liz. Just the way things are now."

It wasn't fine. But there was nothing he could do about it.

She came to a decision, standing there watching him. "I know you can't come for dinner, but could you take time for a coffee?"

He almost said no, then took his keys from the ignition. "Sure, but you drive." He gave her his half smile now, feeling a little relieved he didn't have to go to his empty apartment just yet.

She stepped back as he opened the car door and they walked to her vehicle together, him getting in the passenger seat.

"Frank's, or Stella's?" she asked, referring to the two coffee shops in their vicinity.

"You choose," he told her, putting his seat belt on.

"Frank's it is then." As she was about to pull out of the parking bay, they saw the doors to the elevator open and Cooper exited with Fisher and his daughter. Cooper glanced over at them, and nodded to them as they left. If he wondered why Ressler was in Keen's car, he never showed it. Truth was, he knew Ressler had struggled all day and was glad to see that Keen had noticed too.

They pulled up at the coffee shop and went inside, sitting at a booth near the back where it was more quiet. Though at this time of night, it wasn't that busy anyway. After ordering their coffees, Ressler leaned back, and looked at her squarely.

"You know, you didn't have to do this Liz. I'll be fine."

"I know. I'm not sure I am!" she smiled, watching him smile and look down. "I was almost flattened to a pancake in a train this evening."

He looked serious for a moment at that memory and then tried to play it like she was, with humor. That didn't come so easy to him at the best of times, but he tried, for her sake.

"Well, it's one way to lose weight."

"Does this train make me look fat?" she quipped, and he actually did smile at that. Their coffees arrived then and she pulled out the sweeteners and creamer. He watched her doctor up her coffee, sipping on his now.

"There's never a dull moment in our job, is there?" she asked, losing some of the humor now.

"Not with our 'secret asset' around, no..." he replied quietly. He paused then, thinking of Reddington and how his life the past few years had revolved around the man. Every time he thought he had a handle on where he stood with Red, the 'rules' changed again. And they had changed drastically last week...

She was watching him, knowing he was thinking about Reddington.

"He was the reason Audrey came back into my life..." he suddenly told her, unsure why that mattered now.

_...and my 'best friend' took her away..._

"He has endless resources, so that doesn't surprise me," she replied, watching the faraway look in his eyes now.

"What was she like...?" she wasn't sure she should push, but asked him anyway.

He stared into his coffee, holding it in both hands now and feeling the warmth radiate into his hands. She was soft, loving, beautiful, funny, endearing and so much more than he could ever put into words.

"She was..." he started, then stopped.

He glanced up at Liz, and started again. "She was very feminine. A real lady... She always looked well dressed and her hair done nice...but not pretentious with it..." he trailed off now, picturing her in his mind. How she had looked when she came to the hospital, when they went to dinner, how she lit up when she smiled, and how she laughed...

She was beginning to wish she hadn't asked. It was obviously very difficult for him at this stage.

"She was soft...beautiful...had a good sense of humor..." he continued.

She loved the look on his face as he thought about her, how he softened. He really had loved her with all his heart, she thought and once again her heart ached for his loss.

"I really wish I could have met her."

"I wish you could have too. You would have liked her. She would have liked you," he said, looking away again, remembering.

"She was... She was a lot like you Liz." And he looked right at her then, holding her with his eyes.

She smiled at him at that.

"Except, Audrey could cook." And he actually grinned then. In the midst of all his loss and pain this week, he grinned. And for a moment, it felt good.

She smiled broadly now, nodding at that. She had often told him it was better that Tom cooked or they'd starve if she was in charge of the kitchen. And that reminded her that Tom was at home, cooking dinner tonight, and her smile faded a little.

He noticed, and knew her husband was at home waiting for her.

"You should get home, so you're not late for dinner," he told her softly.

He was right, she knew that. He swigged the last of his coffee down and reached into his pocket for his wallet, placing the money on the docket on the table.

"I invited you, I should pay," she smiled and he looked at her pointedly, effectively ending that conversation.

"You can pay next time," he suddenly said, and they both looked at each other, suddenly realizing a next time would be something they would both look forward to.

They exited the coffee shop then and climbed into her vehicle, comfortable in each other's company. Putting on his seat belt, he turned to her.

"Thanks." Coffee was such a simple thing, yet it had been a welcome break today.

She looked at him, noticing how much more relaxed he looked than when she'd come up to the parking lot.

"Any time," she smiled.

She started up the ignition, driving the few blocks back to the post office to drop him off at his car. Exiting her car, he fished his keys out of his pocket then and went and stood near his car. He looked at her as she leaned on her open window.

"See you tomorrow, Liz," he said warmly.

"See you tomorrow, Ress," she returned and watched as he got in his car. Smiling, she saw him start up his car and follow her up the ramp to exit the parking garage.

 _Next time..._ He liked the thought of that. It made going home and walking into an empty apartment just a little bit easier, somehow.  _Maybe because I know I'm not entirely alone...?_

'Next time...' she thought, and smiled. She hoped Ressler knew he wasn't alone in this.


	13. Death Wish

_This is from Milton Bobbit, and picks up in the middle of the scene where Ressler is arresting Fredrick Osborn, while Milton has the bomb strapped to him. I loved this scene!_

* * *

Fredrick Osborn was confused. He was being arrested by the FBI – shouldn't they be carting off the madman in front of him? You couldn't miss him - he was the one with a bomb strapped to him.

Ressler was well aware he was 'arresting' the wrong person. Unable to wait any longer for negotiators to arrive, he'd walked right up to the bomb wielding Milton Bobbit. If he could just maintain this in front of Bobbit a minute longer, this would all be over. He could get the hostage to safety.

"You can't arrest me!" Osborn told the FBI agent, who was now cuffing his arms behind his back. Rather roughly too, Osborn thought.

"We know about the clinical trials, the people who died." Ressler told Osborn from behind his back, speaking mainly for the benefit of Milton Bobbit.

Osborn was indignant, causing Ressler to groan inwardly.  _For goodness sake man, just let me get you out of here._

"What about him?" Osborn said, indicating Milton Bobbit. "You should arrest him." He said incredulously. The FBI man had it all wrong! He was arresting the wrong person!

Ressler looked evenly at Bobbit as Osborn continued whining beside him.  _Well, there is no other way to put it. The man is whining._

"I'm not leaving." Said Milton, looking resolutely at Ressler, his finger poised on the bomb trigger.

Ressler held Fredrick Osborn's arm and looked calmly at Bobbit. When he had been a rookie agent a guy they had finally caught up to was standing on a rooftop threatening to jump 34 floors to his death. Ressler had been one of two agents on the roof that day. While his partner did all the talking, Ressler had looked into the jumpers eyes, seeing the look of resolution – seeing that look of finality. He never forgot it. There was no way that guy was getting off that rooftop alive. Less than a minute later, the guy had turned and almost casually stepped off the roof. And looking into Milton's eyes right now, Ressler saw that same look.

"I don't think Milton has any intention of being arrested today."

There was nothing more to say. Ressler moved now, leading Osborn away from Bobbit. He knew it wasn't a matter of 'if' the bomb was going to go off - it was just a matter of when. Would he be far enough away that he didn't get hurt (again). Or would he still be close enough that the blast would rip him open.  _It would stop the pain of Audrey though…_  Every step he took became one step further away from certain injury. Just one more step…

The bomb went off and Milton Bobbit was no more. He had stepped calmly off his roof.

The force of the blast knocked them off their feet, flinging them forward onto their bellies. Something Ressler was painfully familiar with of late.  _This is getting to be a habit._  The wind momentarily knocked out of him, he lay on his belly keeping his head low as grass and dry mud rained down. With a grunt, he raised himself up on his elbows, looking back toward where Bobbit had been standing.  _How can a human being just disappear like that?_

Climbing to his feet, he turned his attention back to Osborn, helping the doctor stand up.

"Are you alright, Mr Osborn?"

The elder man's watery eyes look at him, as he nodded hesitantly. He also turned and looked to where Milton had detonated himself, shaking his head slowly. He finally understood why he'd been arrested. It was the quickest way to get him away from the bomb. He hadn't thought Bobbit would blow himself up, yet the FBI agent had apparently known that was going to be the outcome.

"You knew he was going to do that, yet you still got me out of there." He looked at Ressler, wondering what would possess a man not in range of a bomb to walk into one. "Thank you, young man."

Ressler regarded the doctor calmly. "Just doing my job, Mr Osborn. And you're not under arrest." He produced the keys to the cuffs, and gently released them from Osborn's wrists. Osborn rubbed his wrists as they were released, still trying to fathom what had just happened. Being kidnapped, threatened by a madman, arrested, blown up, then released was a little much for him. Not quite what he'd had in mind when he'd walked to his car to go home for the day.

Malik and Keen were walking up to them now. Ressler could almost feel Keen's eyes burning into him. He ignored her.

"Mr Osborn, do you need medical attention?" Malik asked him.

Osborn shook his head. "No, I'm fine…"

"Very good. If you'd come with me we'd like to ask you some questions." Said Malik, all business as usual. She glanced over at Ressler then as she took Osborn gently by the arm, and their eyes met. If she was silently calling him foolish for having just done that, Ressler got it. Loud and clear.

Keen was standing a few steps from him now, and still he ignored her, watching Malik leading Osborn away. When Malik was out of earshot, he turned to Keen and looked at her squarely.

"Okay, say it."

She let rip at him. "What the hell was that?!"

He looked at her silently.  _Everything worked out fine, Keen. Settle down._ _  
_

"What was that?" she repeated.

"That was me getting a hostage to safety." He looked at her evenly.

"We had negotiators en route! You didn't need to walk into that!" she hissed at him, leaning close to him.

"Your concern for me is touching Liz, but I had the situation under control." He was looking at his coat now, and started brushing the grass and dirt off himself. Seeing him doing that infuriated her. He was being so casual about this!

"Under control?! Milton Bobbit is dead! Negotiators could have prevented that!"

He looked at her calmly. She hadn't seen the look in Bobbit's eyes that he had seen. She didn't know that nothing on this earth could have stopped that bomb from going off.

"No one was going to stop him, Liz."

"You could have been killed. Didn't you even stop to think about that? Do you have a death wish too?"

"Whoa, what? No."  _I don't want to die. Right…?_ He met her eyes then, still brushing dry grass off the front of himself. Even he had to admit, he didn't know where the thought had come from when he'd momentarily thought being blown up would end the pain of Audrey's loss.  _But I'm not going to let Liz know that._

He looked down the hill and could see the Police pulling out, and Meera getting Osborn settled in her SUV to take him to FBI Headquarters. Osborn wouldn't be taken to the Post Office. He turned his attention back to Keen, beginning to think there was more going on here than her apparent concern for his well being.

"No, I don't have a death wish." He repeated.  _Am I trying to convince her, or myself…?_  "I recovered the hostage, Liz. Isn't that what we were here to do?" He wasn't angry at her. Actually, he felt strangely calm.  _Shouldn't I feel 'something' though…?_

She sighed then, the wind dropping out of her sails. She dropped her eyes to the ground, shoved her hands in her coat pockets against the cold, before looking up and meeting his eyes again.

"I'm sorry. It's been a… bad day. The thought of also losing…" She stopped herself saying anything more, and exhaled heavily.

_Also? Who else had she lost today…?_

"The business with Tom?" Of course it was. He'd told her to take all the time she needed, and she'd taken him at his word. He'd barely seen her all day. He had almost called her half a dozen times, before dropping his phone back into his pocket every time, wondering what he'd even say to her. Better to just let her do her thing and… cover for her where Cooper was concerned.

She nodded, the memory of Craig/Christopher's dive out the hotel window too fresh in her mind. And all Red could think about were the damned pretzels? She shook her head then, as if trying to rid her mind of the man.

"You still need some time off?" he asked, looking at her now, trying to read her. There were times he wished he had her ability to read people. It would come in handy, for sure.  _And no, I didn't just say I liked profiling._

She didn't answer, simply because she didn't know where she went from here with Tom. That, and the fact her mind was too frazzled to even think about it right now. He accepted her silence. He understood how silence could often speak more than words. He was a master at it. He could see that something was going on in that mind of hers. She hadn't shared what all this time off was for, but he'd go with it for now.

He could have been blown to pieces, she thought, and made herself squash that down. Instead of answering him she looked at his coat, seeing the grass stuck in it now. Agent Ressler's 'uniform' needs attention she thought, smiling inwardly at that now. That was something she could concentrate on.

"You're a mess." She smiled then, and absently reached her hand up and started to brush the grass from his upper arm and shoulder. He flinched just a little and then kicked himself inwardly for that.  _She doesn't mean anything by it!_ If she noticed, she ignored it, and kept brushing the grass off him, smiling at him.

He was 'fine' as she brushed his shoulders. He had to think of something else when her hand brushed further down his back. And when she brushed her hand over his butt…  _Okay, yeah, we're done._ He took a step forward then out of reach of her hand. She stopped, noticing his look.

"Sorry, went into mommy mode there for a sec." She smiled, as he pursed his lips trying not to make a big deal out of it.

_It's no big deal. She's just …um... Hhhmm._

And then, as if that weren't enough, she suddenly reached up to his hair, and this time he really did flinch  _…a lot…_  looking down at her like a startled colt.

She momentarily stopped with her hand right by his head. "Your hair has grass in it." She grinned, and proceeded to pick out a few pieces of grass. "And I know how much you hate your hair to look messed up." She chuckled, feeling the tension melting away as she picked grass from his hair.

He let her do it. Once he stopped being an idiot and flinching away when there was no reason to, that is.

"What do you use to stick your hair in place like this, anyway?" she asked, smiling, feeling his completely unmoving blonde hair under her fingers. She'd never touched his hair when it had been this gelled before. Had always admired it though, and it felt…nice. Nice?

"Superglue. Industrial strength. It's a bitch to wash out every night." He dead panned, meeting her eyes as she was leaning up to him, pulling the last couple of pieces of grass out of his hair. He reached up and took her arm now, stopping her from her grass picking venture. "I think you got it all, Liz." he said, his eyes smiling.

She nodded then, smiling, meeting his gaze. If she had lost him… but that didn't bear thinking about. She took in a quick breath at that thought, and looked away from him then, noticing for the first time that they were all alone at the cemetery. Her vehicle stood alone at the bottom of the hill, and they glanced at each other and started walking down to it. It was cold, and time to go.

"I'm driving." He said, and held out his hand for the keys. She relinquished them to him, comfortable in their roles of him being behind the wheel. When she was behind the wheel and he was in the passenger seat, well, it was usually when he wasn't … at his best.

She glanced at him again as they reached the vehicle. He seemed 'better' now. More in control and getting back to his former self in the aftermath of Audrey's loss. Sure, she knew he was grieving. But he was better able to hide it now. Was that a good thing? Probably not… and that's why she still worried about him. That's why she kept her eye on him, and why she had berated him for walking right up to a guy with a bomb strapped to him.

They climbed into the car, and he turned the heater on while she strapped herself in.

He'd felt nothing immediately after Bobbit blew himself up. That was changing now. Now he was realizing how damned lucky he had been.  _And how stupid._  He really hadn't been thinking straight when he walked up to Bobbit.  _Ya think?_ And that was something he'd have to be careful of now. He would have to make himself think doubly hard in situations, to make sure it wasn't the grief talking.  _Because if I die doing something stupid, Audrey will never forgive me._

"Liz." He looked across at her now, as she rubbed her hands to warm them.

"Yeah?" Her blue eyes met his.

"If I ever do something that stupid again, you go right on telling me that, okay?"

She held his gaze as he thawed out his hands in front of the heating vent.

"Absolutely. I can be as tactless as you need." She smiled.

"Perfect. I knew I could count on you to let me know when I'm being an idiot." He nodded and smiled also, before putting the car in drive and moving off through the cemetery.


	14. Nowhere Else To Go

_This is from The Kingmaker – THAT scene where Liz shows up at Ressler's apartment at the end of the episode. I had wanted to write this from the second I saw it, inwardly screaming at the TV to show us more! But I made myself wait till I saw the follow up scene on the show, to get my beginning and end points correct!_

* * *

Ressler sat reading the newspaper, quietly drinking a beer in the silence of his apartment. The room was lit just how he liked it – with the soft yellow glow from his lamp. No bright fluorescents in here. No glaring tv screens high above the room. No bullpen, no desks, no monitors – only a small tv that he rarely even turned on. This was his space, the place he wound down from the day and gathered his thoughts before turning in for the night.

The place he and Audrey had called home for a while. Before she was gone.

For a little while, his apartment had felt like a prison to him. The week he'd spent holed up in here after she'd died was still painful to think about. But time is consistent in one thing. Slowly, imperceptibly, it erases tiny details; slowly but surely, little things align and life starts to feel more 'normal' again. In the weeks since she'd been gone, he was now able to feel more comfortable in his surroundings again, secure in the knowledge that she was okay with that. That she wanted that for him.

The knock at his door was unexpected and not exactly welcome at this late hour. For a moment he thought of ignoring it, but then he dropped the newspaper and made his way to the door. He was too curious who was calling at this time of night. It couldn't be good. Peering through the peephole, his heart jumped.  _Liz?_  He didn't hesitate and reached down and opened the door quickly. She stood almost shyly in the hallway, looking at him silently. Both searched the others eyes, questioning this unfamiliar territory.

"I didn't know where else to go," she said, apologetically.

Seeing Ressler out of the office and in his home was different to what she'd imagined. It had all seemed so clear when she had driven over here after fleeing her house in tears. Yet now, with him standing before her dressed casually with a beer in his hand, she suddenly faltered.

He nodded imperceptibly before standing aside for her, letting her know she was welcome to come in. Closing the door behind her, he quickly looked at his watch. It was 11:48pm. He turned to face her, his calm features belying the questions racing through his head.

She looked briefly around the dimly lit room. The light level was comforting. Tom always liked their home brightly lit… She shoved that thought aside quickly, refocusing on Ressler who was still standing by his door, having not said a word yet. She had noticed over the months that Ressler's best defense when uncomfortable or unsure around a situation was to remain quiet and watchful. She liked that in him. Tom would go in all smiles and hand shakes and introductions. She needed to stop thinking about Tom, she told herself roughly.

Both suddenly spoke at once, aware of the silence stretching between them.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late…"

"Liz, what's wrong…?"

There was no mistaking the worried tone of his voice. She answered his question immediately, dropping her defenses in that instant.

"Everything. Everything is wrong." She dropped her eyes and her shoulders slumped.

He quickly moved to her, placed his hand on her elbow and moved her into the living room. "Come in here Liz, and talk to me."

She sank into his couch as he sat down beside her and looked into his blue eyes. Her mind raced through the past months; from the day she first met him, their arguments, their conflict with each other, and their ability to completely infuriate the other at times. Yet slowly a partnership had been formed, with trust growing into a working friendship, through hardships, long hours and work secrets. Through his loss of Audrey and now her loss of Tom, the two of them were still here - a constant in each others lives. And suddenly she trusted him even more. She had done the right thing in coming to him.

He looked at her sitting beside him on his couch, his mind flying back to the first time he'd seen her, standing on her porch. He'd taken her to the Post Office that day, having had no idea who she was. They had been thrust unwillingly together by circumstances. The weeks had grown into months. The cases had piled up. She had pushed his buttons, and he hers. They'd had a volatile relationship at work at times, yet he could count on her to have his back. That had been proven. He'd risked everything for her with ROMEO and looking at her right now, he'd do it all again in a heartbeat.  _"Who the hell is Elizabeth Keen?"_  he'd asked on that first day. Elizabeth Keen was his friend. She had come to him needing help and he was going to give it willingly.

"I need to tell you… everything…" she said quietly, not looking at him.

"I'm listening." He would listen to her all night if need be.

She inhaled deeply, and began to talk. "I lied to you. Today, on the bridge, I lied to you."

"I know," he told her gently. Of course he'd known she hadn't told him everything and that she had been hiding something.

She looked at him in surprise and then nodded in understanding. As she watched him calmly sitting there, she didn't want to lie to him again. She'd had enough lies to last a lifetime.

"Technically, it wasn't a lie…it was an… understatement," she rationalized, seeing his mouth barely shift into a tiny smile at that. He didn't say anything, not wanting to stop her talking now that she had started.

"Tom and I did have a fight. And he did leave the house, and I don't know where he is – well, not exactly. That's all true." She looked into her partner's concerned eyes as he sat right beside her. Inhaling deeply, she stood up, looking back down at him before telling him the truth.

"My marriage is done. My husband is gone. He was never my husband to begin with – he's some sort of agent, a spy. A murderer. I wasn't his wife. I was his job!" she said to him, her words tumbling out now.

He stared open mouthed at her, rising to his feet now.  _What?! You weren't wrong when you said you'd understated things!_

"How long have you known this?" he asked, searching her face now. He started counting back to her arriving late at work, the personal time off and the lateness to staff briefings. All had been to do with Tom over the past three weeks or so.

"Some of it a few weeks… the worst of it a few days. But honestly, I've known it for months. He and I had been 'wrong' for so long. We were broken and I didn't know why and didn't know what to do to fix it. But it couldn't be fixed because it wasn't a real marriage… It all started to unravel when Tom was stabbed and almost killed by Zamani…"

"The day Reddington entered your life. Your first day at the Post Office," he said softly, nodding.  _Damn, Red. It always, always comes back to him._

At the mention of his name, a shadow crossed her face. He knew it likely had to do with the photos she'd shown him that morning, of Red entering the hospital where Sam had died.

He watched her features, not liking what he saw. "Liz…?

She turned to him and now he saw something else. Something deep in her that was hurting. "He killed Sam. Red killed the only father I've ever known," she told him, desperately trying to understand.

"What? He told you that…?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice anymore.

He clenched his fists and turned from her, processing this. He felt his chest tightening at the thought of Red deliberately taking Sam from her. He had seen her pain first hand when she had heard Sam was dead. It had destroyed her. Reddington had done that to her.

He quickly turned back to her, finally understanding why she had nowhere else to go. No Tom. No Red. No one.  _She has me._  And right then, looking at her standing so overwhelmed in his living room he vowed that she would always have somewhere she could go.

"He took him from me. Why would he do that?" she whispered.

The tears were brimming in her eyes yet he could see her trying not to cry. He held his arms out to her then, inviting her in if she chose. She stepped into his embrace immediately, accepting his offer and slipping her arms around his waist. He was warm and solid and secure and she needed that more than anything right now. She laid her head on his chest, closing her eyes as she felt his heart beating against her cheek.

He didn't say anything as he held her against him. He rubbed her back, laying his chin gently on her hair. Part of him suddenly never wanted to let her go, but he pushed that thought away quickly.

She had been held by him once before, on a pathway near a cabin in the woods. She'd been so distraught that she had barely noticed what was happening that day. She knew this time – and a part of her never wanted him to let her go. But she knew they needed to, so she pulled her arms back from around his waist.

She looked up at him and smiled. "Thank you. I needed that." His eyes were a bright blue in the glow from his lamp as he looked silently down at her. The thought came to her, out of nowhere, that Donald Ressler really was a good looking man. She squashed that thought immediately and took another step back from him.

He nodded, giving her one of his rare smiles, watching her pull herself together now.

"Would you go somewhere with me…? There's something I want to show you," she asked him.

"Of course. Lead the way," he said, already moving to get his jacket and keys and suddenly very thankful he had answered his door this evening.

###

"Where are we?" he asked her as they pulled up to what looked like storage units in the dark.

"You'll see in a minute," she answered, as she pulled up to a large unit and got out her keys. He followed her into the main building, then through the door to one of the separate air conditioned, powered units. She flipped on the light switch and suddenly the room was before him. A room of about 20' x 10', with a 'crime scene' board at one end, a desk with a computer, a table and some boxes of files. This was an office – in a storage unit. He stared at the board at the end of the room, slowly walking toward the photo of Tom Keen.

She came up beside him, and answered the question she knew he was about to ask.

"Red owns these units and he set this one up for me."

He glanced sideways at her, gauging her tone at the mention of Reddington again. She seemed okay this time though.

"What is this?" he pointed to the burned scrap of paper, with 'BERLIN' typed on it.

"We don't know. Red's been trying to find out, but we don't know what it means. We believe it has something to do with who Tom works for."

He turned to her now and placed his hand on her arm. "Okay Liz. Tell me everything. Now."

He pulled up the second chair as she sat down at the computer desk and for the next three hours she told him everything. She didn't leave anything out. Starting with when Tom had been stabbed, and her doubts that then led to him demanding the FBI check him out. What had happened after their investigation and how the doubts had lingered. She told him the full story, and he barely said a word the entire time.

Sometimes he sat still while she talked. Other times he got up and began pacing, unable to keep it all in. At times they went back to the board as she spoke of Jolene and Craig, and the safe deposit box key. He finally found out where the photos of Red at the hospital had come from.

They sat at the computer and she showed him some of the surveillance footage of Tom in their home, opening his 'go box', hiding the safe deposit key, etc. When she told him of the Pavlovich brothers delivering Tom to her for 'questioning', he stared at her. Red had used blacklisters to find Tom! Was there anything the man wasn't involved in? She finally finished, telling him about their fight that had wrecked their dining and living room and how Tom had told her he was one of the good guys before he walked out of her life.

Ressler's head was swimming with it all. How had she been dealing with this for so long? He had told her a couple of weeks ago to 'take as long as you need' when she'd told him she had some personal business to take care of. He'd had NO idea it was this involved. He found himself wondering if she would have come to him tonight if she hadn't have been upset with Reddington. He decided not to pursue that line of thought. She had come to him and that's all that mattered.

"Where is Tom now, do we know?" he asked her.

She noticed immediately he had said 'we'. She wasn't in this alone anymore.

"Last I heard he was in New York and Red's people were still tailing him," she told him.

They were standing at the board when they heard a key in the door lock behind them. Ressler immediately reached his hand to his right hip, but realized he was unarmed as he turned to face the door. Instinctively he took a step in front of Liz, putting his left arm in front of her.

Reddington walked in the door, taking in the entire situation in an instant - Donald's protective stance over Lizzie, and the fact that Lizzie had now confided in her partner.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him coldly, coming out from behind Ressler now.

"The door was opened to this unit over 3 hours ago. I came to see if you were okay, Lizzie," he told her, as they saw Dembe appear quietly in the doorway. Of course, Red would never go anywhere without the man.

He looked Ressler in the eye now. "I see things are fine though. Good evening Donald," he said pleasantly, regaining some of his charm.

Ressler had his arms folded, glaring at Reddington. He was really having a problem not strangling Red right at this instant, knowing what he had done to Sam - what he had done to Liz.

"I told you we were done. You need to leave, now," Liz told Red, then turned her back on him.

Ressler saw something flicker across the man's features.  _Was that… pain?_ It was undeniably there. Ressler had just seen Reddington cut very deeply at Liz's dismissal of him. He'd only ever seen that look of pain once before on Red. When Anslo Garrick had a gun to Liz's head.

Red looked at Liz calmly now, the moment gone. He nodded to Dembe and the two of them left the unit. Ressler looked at Liz, who was still facing the board.

"Wait here," he told her and then sprang after Reddington. He met him outside just as he was getting in the car.

"Donald, as much as I'd love to stay and chat, it is very late."

"Is it true what you told Liz? Did you kill Sam?" he demanded of Red.

Donald was calling her 'Liz', and Red wondered just what had transpired between the two of them this evening. "That's between Lizzie and I, Donald."

"Why would you do that though, knowing it would hurt her? That it would hurt both of you…" Ressler asked him, suddenly unable to feel as angry at Red anymore.

Red looked at the younger man. "Yes. It's true. Sam was suffering and didn't want to live another 6 weeks. We mutually decided to end it for him and I put him out of his misery. I wouldn't expect you to believe or even understand that, Donald. Good evening to you."

He got in the rear seat of the car, leaving Ressler standing there processing the fact Reddington had just told him something that was personal. He had just shared something that he didn't have to. For a few moments, Reddington had sounded…human.

The car window dropped down, revealing Red sitting in the shadows.

"And Donald, thank you for being here with Lizzie. She's going to need you." The window was raised back up before Ressler could reply. Not that he could think of a reply to that anyway. He already knew Liz was going to need him. The car pulled out of the storage units and Ressler walked back inside to Liz again.

"What did you talk to him about?" she asked quietly, pretty much knowing the answer to that.

"He didn't deny killing Sam when I asked him," he told her gently.

"No, if there's one thing I do know about Red, it's that he doesn't lie. Oh, he can mislead and withhold with the best of them, but he won't openly lie," she said, trying not to sound too harsh.

"I think he cared about Sam though, that was obvious…" he told her carefully, unsure how she would react to that.

Her reaction surprised him though, as tears sprang to her eyes. "Yes, I think he did. And I think it hurt him to kill Sam. But it hurt me too. It hurts that he's withheld that from me all this time."

He stood beside her, and nodded. She brushed her tears away and picked up her keys, getting ready to leave the storage unit.

Ressler had a feeling that the night was almost over and suddenly realized he didn't want it to be. "Are you up for one more field trip tonight?" he asked her, almost afraid of her answer.

She looked at her watch and saw it was almost 4:00am now, but still nodded. She didn't want to be alone right now.

"Where to this time?" she asked him, thinking he probably meant the Post Office.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, surprising her with how boyish he suddenly looked.

She nodded, realizing she was starving. "I could definitely eat. Lead the way," she smiled.

After she locked up the storage unit and they walked to her car, Ressler held out his hand asking for her car keys. She gave them to him and he drove them to his favorite 24 hour hamburger place near his apartment.

###

Their meal was eaten and they sat across from each other at the back of the diner, sipping their drinks.

"What are you going to do, Liz?" he asked her gently. It needed to be her decision where she took this next. He would stand by whatever she chose. There was no way he was leaving her alone in this now.

She knew what she needed to do. Tom Keen, or whatever his real name was, needed to be taken to the FBI as a case. Six hours ago she had been overwhelmed and had fled sobbing from her house. Things were different now, and she knew she could face this.

"I'll call Cooper and have him meet me at the house. But before I do that…would you go there with me first?" she asked him, needing him to see it before it became a crime scene. She needed that one last moment with just the two of them before it flew wide open and her life became a side show.

He nodded, and then looked at his watch. It was 5:30am now. He normally left for the office at 6:00am.

"Let me quickly shower and get ready, then I can stay there with you when the crime scene boys come in," he told her, and she agreed.

They left the diner and headed back to his apartment. She let him drive her vehicle again, needing to have him take charge even if was just in that small thing.

"Thank you…for listening to me and not writing me off over all this," she told him as they pulled up to his apartment block.

He turned off the engine and handed her the keys, looking over at her. "That's what friends are for, Liz".

They walked into the lobby and caught the elevator to the 4th floor, and entered his apartment again. He went to quickly shower and change while she waited in his living room. Standing at the window, she watched as the sun came up, giving the world outside a soft pink glow - the first dawn of yet another stage of her life. One in which Tom was truly gone. In which she was done with Reddington, and yet still ready to face this day.

Fifteen minutes later Ressler appeared behind her, and she turned to him and smiled. Special Agent Donald Ressler was back in his suit and tie and slicked back hair. But there was a difference now. Now she knew he truly was her friend and partner underneath that 'uniform'.

"Ready?" he asked her gently. She held his gaze a moment, and nodded. He picked up his keys and they left his apartment, driving in separate vehicles now to her home. He followed her and they pulled up outside in the soft morning light. He had only been here once and the memory of that day came flooding back. The helicopter overhead, Liz and her... husband... standing on the front porch and his introducing himself to her. So much had happened between that day and this morning.

He followed her up the steps to her house and they stepped inside. The first thing he noticed was the broken stair rail and it felt surreal to see it, after he'd only heard about it a few hours ago. Knowing that was where she'd been hand cuffed by Tom Keen when he'd held her at gun point. The thought of Tom Keen doing that to her made his blood boil.

He stood in the doorway of the wrecked living room as she leaned against the wall, looking at him. The place was trashed. He stepped through it, shaking his head, looking at the broken chairs and furniture. The dining room had fared no better. Oranges lay on the table from an upturned fruit bowl. When she said they had fought…she wasn't joking. He walked slowly back to her, leaning his foot up on some broken furniture, surveying the scene again.

Soon her home would be swarming with agents and crime lab guys going through the place with a fine tooth comb. But for now, it was still the two of them for a few more minutes. She was watching him, and remembered a conversation they'd had a couple of months ago. She smiled at the thought of it. He was protective of her even then.

"I should have let you rough him up," she smiled ruefully, leaning against the door frame.

He was looking down, and smiled that she'd remembered he'd offered to do just that. Maybe things wouldn't have turned out this bad for her if he had. Whatever happened with this, he was going to stick by her though. Of that, he was sure.


	15. Loyalty

_So, I finally decided on how I was going to finish off Conversations, Season 1. I held off because I wanted to see the next episode – which of course was a 4 month wait! And Berlin Pt 1 and 2 were such frantic episodes. So much happened to our task force, and I addressed Meera's demise in my short piece "For Meera". So in the end, I took Ressler's last scene in the season, where he is sitting in Cooper's hospital room. There is something so lovely about that scene, seeing him sitting there with his injured boss. Ressler's loyalty and concern was so touching. So after my long wait, that's finally where I wanted to go to finish off Season One's conversations._

* * *

Ressler sat in the recliner in Cooper's hospital room, listening to the sound of the monitors and IV's whirring and clicking around him like gentle clockwork. The blinds were closed against the afternoon sun, and the room was lit by a large lamp behind the chair. He was alone – apart from his unconscious boss. Someone had mentioned that Cooper's wife and family were in the Dominican Republic visiting relatives and were catching a flight back. So in the absence of his personal family… his work family had stepped up. Liz had taken the early shift, Aram had sat with him for a while, and now it was his turn to sit and be with his boss. He looked over at the unconscious man again, his eyes again taking in the ventilator breathing for him, and then quickly scanning the monitors.

No change.

He didn't like hospitals. He had spent more than enough time in them over the past few years. It was the nature of his job, he told himself, to sustain injuries from time to time. If you chase enough suspects who fire at you, sooner or later one of them is going to make contact. If you go hurtling into something, or slam into someone, or get shot while wearing a vest, you're likely to break a few ribs. But he had to reluctantly admit, it was more likely his sheer bull headedness at running into the face of danger that was more the reason he ended up in hospitals.

The way he saw it, if his job was the 'go' part of his life, then hospitals were most definitely the 'stop' part. The part of life that made you slow down, take stock, and reflect on what the hell you'd done to wind up back in a folding bed again. He was not one for just sitting around. And in a hospital, that's pretty much all you did, because sleep was all but impossible. Unless of course you did manage to get some sleep, then they'd wake you up to give you something to help you sleep.

He didn't like hospitals because…people died in hospitals. He always thought when it was his time to finally meet his maker, it would be in a hospital. The past year he'd revised that thought though, because he had almost died in a glass box. So he could die anywhere, really…

On a road… bleeding out. Like Audrey.

Or in a nightclub… bleeding out… Like Meera.

Or maybe… in a car… throat garroted and windpipe almost severed… Like Cooper.

His eyes travelled to his boss again, looking at the still form in the bed. He hadn't died… yet. The doctors weren't sure, they'd said. If he makes it through the night, then his chances go up, they'd said. But they didn't know for sure, in that infuriating way doctors had of sidestepping the facts at times.

He'd sat here for over an hour, and in that time the nurse had come in a couple of times to check Cooper's vitals, but he'd been alone. He adjusted his position in the chair and checked his watch. He briefly considered going down the hall to grab a coffee, then dismissed that idea. He wasn't going to leave Cooper alone for a minute.

Not with Berlin out there.

There was an armed guard in the hallway, but still, Cooper needed… more. He deserved more. He was a good man who hadn't deserved what had happened to him. So instead of getting up to get coffee, Ressler hauled himself out of the chair and stood by his boss, looking down at him. He moved his hand as if to feel Cooper's forehead, then stopped and moved it back to his side. That was too… well, this WAS Cooper after all…

"Don't you die…"

He hadn't realized he was going to say that out loud, but there it was, quietly out in the open. He surprised himself at the sound of his voice.

Cooper didn't move a muscle.

Ressler was well aware of what it was like to be unconscious. It was lonely in that dark place…the voices were somewhat of a comfort. He leaned over his boss a little, and studied his eyes. No movement. The man was out cold.

"You can't go out like this…" He kept his voice quiet, watching Cooper's eyelids.

In the months since the taskforce had been formed, he suddenly couldn't imagine anyone else having done the job that Cooper had.

"You are needed, sir…" he softly told his boss.

No movement. Cooper lay completely still, his vitals never changing. Ressler had memorized them by now. He looked back down at his boss.

"We can't lose you too…not today…" He was gaining more confidence, talking to the unconscious man now.

"Not today sir… not after Meera…"

His throat felt tight at saying Meera's name out loud. He stopped. Turning away, he closed his eyes and with great effort pushed the awful scene at the nightclub out of his mind.

He opened his eyes and leaned over his unconscious boss again. "We can't lose both of you today, sir. You need to come back from this. You need to fight."

He looked up, startled as Cooper's nurse came quietly into the room, pushing her little cart before her to check Cooper. Ressler moved and stood back by the window, watching her. He had no idea why they checked like this when the monitors gave them all the same info out at the nurse's station.

Maybe because they know patients need to feel someone with them… The nurse smiled and nodded to him when she finished and then left the room. He stood alone again with the prone man lying in the bed, the whir of the machines filling the silence.

He felt a little embarrassed standing beside him now, knowing the nurse had seen him. He turned and quietly moved the chair a foot or so closer to the bed, then sat back down in it. Leaning back on the chair, he continued, keeping his voice soft. This was between him and Cooper.

"They're taking good care of you, sir. We're in Walter Reed, and no one is going to get to you here…" He sure hoped that was true.

"Keen feels responsible for this… so you have to pull through. Seriously…she doesn't need that…" None of them needed that…and yet, deep down, the knowledge that he was responsible for Meera's death was making its presence felt. He swallowed hard, and squashed it down again.

He recalled one of his bosses most used phrases. "So as a personal favor to me... don't die, okay?" He looked up at the monitors again.

No change.

"We've had enough people die…we can't lose you too." His voice caught in his throat, and he looked again at the ventilator breathing for his boss.

"We need you to come back from this, sir. The task force needs you." His breathing hitched, and he quickly looked away, blinking back tears that sprang to his eyes. He turned back to look at Cooper.

No change. Cooper lay completely still.

Ressler exhaled, glancing over at the monitors again. Still the same. No matter how much he told himself not to go there, he found himself increasingly picturing Cooper's death. Standing at Cooper's funeral. The Post Office without him. Until this moment, he hadn't realized just how much his life hinged on being a part of this task force - of working with the team, with Cooper at the helm.

"I need you, sir."

It was out before he realized, and yet maybe it was right that Cooper hear that.

No movement.

The monitors and IV's continued to whir and quietly click away. He leaned quietly back on the chair. He was tired. It had been a long, exhausting, physically draining day. His tired mind was heading back toward a roadway, cradling Audrey in his bloody hands as she breathed her last. Now he was back in the nightclub... surrounded in the blood pool, hearing them scream at Meera not to leave them. He wasn't sure how many more deaths he could take…

There was movement.

He was sure of it. He turned to look at Cooper, leaning his head forward off the chair. There!

Cooper's thumb was moving.

He leaned forward at the sight of his boss moving his left thumb. Cooper had just defied the odds and was conscious.

He had fought back.

Relief flooded over him and he smiled. It was such a small movement, yet it meant so much. He quickly left the chair, needing to find the nurse. As he looked out into the hallway, he saw her leaving the nurses station, already on her way. She had seen the change on Cooper's monitors too. As she reached the doorway Ressler stood back as she entered, and the nurse gave him a smile again.

"Your boss is a fighter. This was unexpected this soon, but it's a very good sign. I've already paged his doctor to come," she said, and leaned over to check her patient now.

Leaning back on the wall, feeling the cold, sterile hospital paint under his hands, Ressler told himself again how much he didn't like hospitals. People died in them.

But then sometimes they lived too.

Watching the nurse tend to Cooper, he sighed deeply. He needed to tell Liz. Stepping quickly outside the room to make the call, Liz answered on the second ring, knowing he was with Cooper.

"Did something happen?!" she asked, not even saying hello. He could hear the panic in her voice.

"He's waking up," he told her, watching the doctor arrive now to examine Cooper.

He heard Liz gasp, then break out with "Yes!" on the other end of the line, and he smiled with her, not knowing if she was laughing or crying, holding the phone to his ear and sharing that with her.

"I'm here, and about to get in the elevator! I'll be right up!" she told him hurriedly and hung up.

A minute later he saw the elevator doors open and Liz hurried out, almost running down the hall. She came to a stop beside him, wanting to go in the room, but stopping when she saw the doctor and nurse in there.

"He's really awake?" she asked, breathlessly.

He nodded, smiling at her now. She looked up at him with shining eyes, and then suddenly she was against him, her arms wrapping tight around him as she held onto him. He didn't miss a beat. He dropped his head to her shoulder, draped his arms around her, closed his eyes and held her close.

He needed this as much as her.

Their day had held so much loss. So much pain. They had begged Meera to live, and yet her blood had spilled all over them and she had died a horrible death. They had seen their boss almost killed, and while he would likely live now, his future was uncertain.

In the past few weeks, Sam was gone, killed mercifully by Reddington. Audrey was gone, leaving Ressler's life in shreds. Tom was gone, leaving Liz alone and unsure of her future. The task force was in tatters. There had been so many endings, and new beginnings were coming.

Less than a year ago they were strangers. They didn't even like each other all that much. Their beginnings had been volatile, to say the least. But now, standing together outside their boss's hospital room they clung to each other, finding comfort and solace in the one constant in their lives.

\- THE END -


End file.
